I dreamt your suicide note
was scrawled in pencil on a brown paperbag,
& in the bag were six baby mice. The bag
opened into darkness,
smoldering
from the top down. The mice,
huddled at the bottom, scurried the bag
across a shorn field. I stood over it
& as the burning reached each carbon letter
of what you'd written
your voice released into the night
like a song, & the mice
grew wilder.

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 1902 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Nick Flynn (Nick Flynn Art)
Poem: Bag Of Mice
Volume: Some Ether
Year: Published/Written in 2000
There are no comments for this poem. Why not be the first one to post something about it?

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, Bag Of Mice, has not yet been commented on. You can click here to be the first to post a comment about it. Of course you can also always discuss poems by Nick Flynn with others on the American Poems poetry forum!