The first time I saw a mouse
I was a child and shouted: ‘A rat!’
All the women screamed, my
uncle’s new lady-friend jumped up on a chair
and my father came with a broom.
I still shout rat for a mouse
but no one comes any more with a broom.
I got into this story like Pontius Pilate got
into the creed. I was simply there. It could have been
I also wash my hands. Second to none, actually.
I don’t condemn anyone to death either and couldn’t dream
of pardoning anyone, anyone at all. Certainly not mice.
What do we know about Pontius Pilate?
Did he have a family?
Procurator. Prefect. Brutal. Handwash.
I’m such a nice person. Even so, I’m really mean