Shrunken Rodent Heads on a Stick

We heard scrabbling in the attic
Dozens of tiny feet
Running to and fro
A cacophony of movement

Louder and louder it grew
We both looked up in dread
Knowing what was coming
As the ceiling started to sag

And then the cracks split open
And little bodies fell
Raining down upon our heads
Rodent showers at midnight

We jumped up and ran
But there was no where to go
We knew we had no choice
But to take matters into
Our hands

He grabbed the first one
He saw
And flew to the kitchen sink
Where he snatched up a butcher knife
And chopped off its little head

I handed him another
Which he dispatched with equal speed
Then another and another and another
Till the sink was brimming with death

I think we’ve got enough
He said
To send our message home
Then he opened a drawer and
Pulled out a pile
Of little wooden skewers

He boiled some water
And left the flame burning
Then began as I watched in amazement
Peruvian voo-doo witchcraft?
Shrinking the rodents heads
And mounting them on sticks

I stared at our macabre creation
And suddenly started to laugh
He followed suit and shortly
The only sound to be heard
Was the roar of demonic laughter
Our terrorist hearts’ delight

We got out the ladder
Climbed up to the ceiling
Where all the trouble had started
We peered inside with a flashlight
There wasn’t a sound to be heard

I handed them to him
One by one
He placed them in half a circle
Surrounding the gaping hole
Where they stood like silent sentries
Warning their brothers of doom

We came back down
Put the ladder away
And parked ourselves on the couch

Turned on the tv
Smoked another bowl
Fixed a midnight snack
Then fell into peaceful sleep

The next morning we looked
In the attic
To see if our plan had worked
But the space was completely empty
As if nothing had ever been there

We looked at each other in wonder
Did the soldiers bury their dead?
What really happened last night?
Was that just some really good weed?

We’ll never know for sure
I guess
The only thing I can tell you?

It’s been a good two weeks now
And all’s quiet in the attic…