‍   there is a rat in our room.

‍   we've always had a rat problem, but never in our room. in the kitchen; in the living room; in the backyard, yes. i don't know how it got here, but it did.

‍   i spend most time alone in the room.

‍   i guess i'm not really alone. the rat is 'with' me. it stays out of my way, mostly, but sometimes, if i hold my breath and lower whatever song's blasting off of spotify; i can hear it. it scampers around in the clothes closet. it runs across the floors. i've seen it once or twice.

‍   no one else in my family seems to care it's there.

‍   they know it is, but they haven't done anything about it. usually we'd set up mice traps but having one in the room is always a danger - we walk barefoot and throw our things around. the trap might end up snagging us before it lands the mouse.

‍   they call the rat 'friendly'.

‍   it's 'the friendly'. sometimes, i talk out loud to it, when i'm alone. i tell it about how i'm not ready for mom to leave. i tell it about how i'm scared for college. (i must be going crazy.) i was certain that the moment it would hear my voice; booming, at no one in particular; it would scuttle away.

‍   but, sometimes, if i hold my breath... i like to pretend i can hear it listening.

Something too much?
Recognition,
the request.
For some,
for most.
It may not matter
how meticulous was
our best.

So as a raging river
a mountain I'll tear down.
Now I see the wall
rodents made to keep me out.

A sneaky rat and a little gecko
Both lived in a family house
The little gecko always greeted the family
The sneaky rat always stole their food

The family loved the little gecko
Because it was cute and kind
The family hated the sneaky rat
Because it kept creating a mess

They set a trap for the rat
Hoping that they could get rid of it
But the sneaky rat was clever
And told the gecko to get the food from the trap

The little, innocent gecko stepped on the trap
And the sneaky rat ran away
Even the family couldn't help the little gecko
Now it is trapped there forever.

I fell for a fairy,
She was flower
Daughter of the sun.
I worship the moon,
I live among fungi.
A fairy that was fire
I am a rat,
Soaked by the moon's tears.
I don't know why,
But she kissed me,
I dreamt of being a creature like she was,
I dreamt of living in the sun
Among the flowers of her back,
Her wings,
I dreamt.
She didn't like my sadness,
My insecurity,
The spores growing on my skin.

Tomorrow should be getting closer.
But is it? I must answer no, sir.
Whatever speed we walk or run
We’re no closer than when we’d first begun.
Like the carrot dangled in front of the ***
(I apologize if this sounds crass -
I refer to the animal here of course
A second cousin to the horse)
We chase the carrot till our days are through,
And then we die. I am afraid it’s true -
Without getting the carrot, ain’t that a *****?
We might die poor or we might die rich,
But our tomorrow’s the same no matter what we do,
So I offer up this thought to you–
Let’s stop and share glass of Claret
And let other ***** chase the carrot.