Rat bumble in the walls
Between the metal and the wood.
It knocks in the morning
A bit in the afternoon
These birds are roosting in the rafters
Dragging claws across metal tubes
One is up there dead
At least since spring
Its feathers have fallen out long ago
A smattering of feces marks the spot today
I sit and wonder about the rat
Whether it wants in or out,
also if this might be a rat piss motel.

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• Living by Robert Ganshaw