I'd be lying if I told you I didn't stop to read them
Because there they were
All stuffed about the floor of the attic
Newspapers from the last seventy years
Some with the back piles all tied up with twine
And labeled as to what year they were from
Others strewn about and crumpled up
Stopping up gaps in the boards on the walls
Clearly an insulation substitute in action
My main job was to come up here and try to herd some flying squirrels
Yes
Flying squirrels
They'd been rumbling around the attic for a couple months
And I hadn't thought much of it
As occasionally they could be seen popping out near the chimney
And zooming away across the yard through the air
To land on a tree an impossible seeming distance away
At least I wasn't worried until I read that they never lived alone
And were often in colonies as large as twenty
Which was the part that bothered me
Because that number started to approach what I equated to an infestation
Very patiently I'd checked all around the house for possible exits for them
And watched them for a few days to see their habits
So that when most of them out of the house
And with all but one of the holes that they used plugged up
I could come up here and try to flush out the last of them
None of them were going to come back now that they had left
As I had installed a one way door on the last exit
For the few remaining squirrels to use a final time
After I had rousted them from wherever they were hanging out up here'
I hadn't counted on these marvelous papers though
I set myself down with crossed legs and propped up my flashlight
Sending strange shadows across the attic walls
Making the stacks of papers appear almost as skyscrapers lit by a setting sun
Ripe for my searching fingertips to disturb
Like a giant research Godzilla
Before I knew it I had read about the moon rocket launches
Victory in Europe Day
JFK's assassination
The bombing of Pearl Harbor
Which was right when a squirrel flew by my face
Clearly taunting me with his little bat-like stretched skin wings and cute beady eyes
I set down the paper and grabbed for my broom
These papers could wait until I cleared out these aerial jokesters
Because there they were
All stuffed about the floor of the attic
Newspapers from the last seventy years
Some with the back piles all tied up with twine
And labeled as to what year they were from
Others strewn about and crumpled up
Stopping up gaps in the boards on the walls
Clearly an insulation substitute in action
My main job was to come up here and try to herd some flying squirrels
Yes
Flying squirrels
They'd been rumbling around the attic for a couple months
And I hadn't thought much of it
As occasionally they could be seen popping out near the chimney
And zooming away across the yard through the air
To land on a tree an impossible seeming distance away
At least I wasn't worried until I read that they never lived alone
And were often in colonies as large as twenty
Which was the part that bothered me
Because that number started to approach what I equated to an infestation
Very patiently I'd checked all around the house for possible exits for them
And watched them for a few days to see their habits
So that when most of them out of the house
And with all but one of the holes that they used plugged up
I could come up here and try to flush out the last of them
None of them were going to come back now that they had left
As I had installed a one way door on the last exit
For the few remaining squirrels to use a final time
After I had rousted them from wherever they were hanging out up here'
I hadn't counted on these marvelous papers though
I set myself down with crossed legs and propped up my flashlight
Sending strange shadows across the attic walls
Making the stacks of papers appear almost as skyscrapers lit by a setting sun
Ripe for my searching fingertips to disturb
Like a giant research Godzilla
Before I knew it I had read about the moon rocket launches
Victory in Europe Day
JFK's assassination
The bombing of Pearl Harbor
Which was right when a squirrel flew by my face
Clearly taunting me with his little bat-like stretched skin wings and cute beady eyes
I set down the paper and grabbed for my broom
These papers could wait until I cleared out these aerial jokesters
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