There is a rat in this house.

One that crawls around, gnawing on everything while shitting everywhere.

Across floors, counter-tops and even the crown-molding of cabinets.

All the while the terrier-poodle sits blind

staring through cataracts at an open window

closed off by mosquito netting.

There is a rat in this house.

One where nothing enters or exits

of its own free will.

And yet

somehow

there is a rat in this house.

Scurrying, eating and shitting

as it pleases.

 

I know,

after scouring counters, floors and cabinets of shit.

I know,

after bringing the shaking terrier-poodle into the hermetically sealed bedroom.

The human realizes,

I’m not the only rat in this house.

 

But rather,

does he realize…

I’m not locked in here with him,

he’s locked in here with me.