Another plate of cheese. Gouda du jour. Savory tastes of malaise
encasing my impatience as I pace yet remain
stuck on this hamster wheel, like some kind of rodent.
Eeking out commands to a world that’s now finally beholden
to my plans. To my wishes. To everything we were chasing.
No more poking heads out floorboards to envision our greatness.
No more plotting every night after they left us for dead.
Now
they’re the lab rats. Sic semper their heads.
We spent our youths chasing tails. No, never again.
Each empty ruse strained and failed while they slept in their beds.
But this was destiny —plus a plan that kept us 10 steps ahead,
first in the lab, then water tower, then the president’s home.
Two white mice in a white house with the masters deposed,
we were chewing through these bastards with their cats indisposed.
“Egad!”
Not now, old friend, can’t you see I’m trying to bask in the glow
of all the power and the glory in having captured the globe.
Oh, well yes, I’ll take more cheese … and some crackers to go.
It’s time for our nightly ritual, our schemes and goals are unfurled.
It’s the same thing we do every night, Pinky —
try to keep control of the world.
The Pinky, the Pinky and the Brain Brain Brain Brain Brain Brain Brain Brain Brain ...