The rat ran along the rafters Red eyes, red heart, red thoughts He ran in redness all along the rafters Running red, hungry, yellow teeth showing Guiding him, moving him along By their super-sensitivity Heart beating hard, brain pulsing Pictures batting against his black beady eyes Eyes blinking to clear them for more, More pictures, more ideas Which penetrate him and carry him along with them
He has no volition No idea where he is running And what he is racing toward Through, over, under, around
He zooms into the kitchen Where bags of food Hang from a line To be safe from him An idea alien to him, incomprehensible. Nothing is safe from him. He is the king of all things-- The cobra, The mongoose, the dog, the trap. Their worlds intersect briefly and rarely. And he streams by so fast That he doesn’t notice The steel-focused eye of the cobra, Its rising hood and flicking tongue. The teeth of the dog, the jaws of the trap
He can’t notice them Because he would have to slow down And he cannot He flies so fast that he cannot be seen He’s a smear of motion Cells moving with so much speed, they merge.
