I’m an urban rat, I’ve been told.
When walking the very same concrete pavement day after day after year after square after skips after shit on the trash.
When keeping away from people crossing my way, I’ve been so long on this road.
It’s been one of those days. Rhythmic claps mark my pace.
Rat can’t find no food, it is in an industrial area. Rat almost ran out by a train. I take comfort in the electric charge coming from the rails.
It makes me feel something good at least, at last. Claps claps claps everywhere.
I make no resistance and though I know food and warmth in winter will come plenty, it’s the uncertainty that keeps me going.
Dancing with the claps, clapping my way, far up.
