Amos the churchmouse

Editor’s note: Amos is a churchmouse, who types by hopping on the computer keyboard, but he can’t operate the capital shift keys, and he shuns punctuation marks – except dashes and hyphens.

post-holiday dieter s dilemma

now that the holidays

and all that good food

has ceased for a while

boss i ve decided never

to talk to freddy the flea

anymore he called me a

big fat mouse the other

day and made me mad

so i called him a

skinny little tick

but somehow it didn t

have the same impact

he could have called

me a big fat louse

because even a fat louse

is still not very big

it s ugly as sin

but it s not very big

anyway freddy asked

me if i was gaining

weight - that i was

starting to look like

a big fat mouse

i said of course not

can t you see any

better than that

you skinny little tick

then i went home and

weighed my big fat mousy

self and sure enough i

had gained six ounces

which is sizable for a

mouse my size

boss i tried to go on a

diet i really did but to no

avail - i kept dipping into

my chocolate stash - i

just haven t been the

same since i fell into that

big chocolate vat

then i went to chunky

dan s exercise gym

down the street and

tried to work out my

hairy little limbs

pushups were a disaster

i couldn t even get up

off the floor - and any

time i got near an

exercise machine it

nearly thrashed me -

i just walked around

the medicine ball

depressed i decided

to cheer myself up by

visiting my faithful

old chocolate stash

after my depression had

been totally smothered

by my self-applied

chocolate therapy - not

particularly advocated

by any psychologists

in the church pew

underworld boss -

and licking the last

vestiges of the gooey mass

from my gray whiskers

i headed to the little

mousehole that i call

my home

but something happened

when i tried to slip

through it - it closed

around my middle - i

couldn t move a muscle

i was stuck so tight boss

that i could hardly wiggle

i couldn t turn or slide

roll flip or run away to hide

it was a cinch that i couldn t

budge an inch

it was tough to breathe

air came and went in tiny

little heaves i squinted my

eyes sucked in my cheeks

and curled my toes

but it only made me puff more

mostly through my nose

oh god says me in a

tearful plea i m sorry

i was mean to my little

buddy freddy the flea

if you ll just get me

outta here i ll be good to

all my little peers and

i won t get mad anymore

tease little bugs or slam

any doors i promise to

watch my diet and not

cause my cholesterol to riot

but the lord decided i needed

some time to mull over my

plight and after an

involuntary three-day fast i

shrank enough to roll

myself home in abject

humility which they say

is good for the soul

it seems my soul is doing

well these days boss

amos