the squirrel

This is a poem I wrote for a creative writing club in 1995 when I was much younger. We were supposed to write a poem about Spring, and this is what resulted.

The squirrel, our main character
Had hibernated all winter
Through all the freezing sleet and snow
He was warm in the ground below

He gathered nuts the prior fall
And in the ground he stored them all
Yet not noticing in the least
He put them in a heap of yeast

While he was in hibernation
His horde was in fermentation
So that first nut that he got
Was somewhat like a whiskey shot

Shocked by this taste in his coffer
He liked it so he tried another
Soon drunk on the ground he did lay
Thinking of what his wife would say

He soon dozed off without a fight
And lay like that through all the night
When he finally did awake
He had an Excedrin headache

His sight seemed to dance and hover
This squirrel had a hangover
Half digested nuts were heaved out
As he looked for his part of town

He had never heard such a shout
As the one that his spouse let out
He made this promise to his wife
“No more booze for all my life”

One year later and no smarter
He thinks his stash under water
What he hid them this time in
Is now some nitroglycerine

This poem is dedicated to the squirrel who was the unfortunate victim of an accidental explosion.