Mouse The Speciality Of The House Poem by Paul Brookes

dissonance being my daily fare, not fair I think,
there is a constant buzz which makes me tingle, jingle.
sharp toothed rodents nibbling at the corners.

maybe that's why everything has to be ordered so, just so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so....................

there's silence in the crypt, so I wander there, to that part of my brain wherein lies calm.

they say noting exits in a vacuum but that's where I am.
no sound but the silence of my screaming.

when the lights go out I shall ask God why?
and if he tells me I'm special I may just be guilty of his assassination.