Poetry: My Pet Hamster

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Running in circles

On a wheel going pretty much


That squeaks every few revolutions


And it’s got

Little houses to hide in

To block out the world


And a big glass wall

That it sometimes runs into

Like it doesn’t really understand how cages work


Sometimes it squeezes itself

Into cardboard tubes

It does not fit into

An awkward éclair

Just for the heck of it


It’ll gnaw on a piece of week-old cardboard

That can’t taste good

But that’s how compulsive habits work, right

Can’t let it go, even when it knows it’s not getting anything good

From dwelling on it


And bedding at its feet

To bury its head in the sand

And create mazes of tunnels

Some collapsed, some dead ends


It’s crazy, basically

But in a way some people might call



I’ve been watching my pet hamster for an hour

But I’ve been thinking about

My mind.

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