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© 2010 Sophia Rosenberg Sophia Rosenberg lives "off the grid" in a small cabin in the woods on Lasqueti Island. (Who would ever have imagined?)

The First Rat

may as well have been a gorilla in my cabin
never mind there was only half of it
waiting at the bottom of the ladder
next to a bulging cat asleep on the chair
dreaming who knows what kind of swampy dreams
having eaten that heart
and left me the rat's ass.

I did not want to look at the tail.

umbilicus to another planet (very close by but never willingly travelled to),
long leathery neck of something with an invisible head, tether to mortality,
tunnel to Squeamishness, canal through dis-ease,
wormskin purse full of dirty secrets, gleam in the eye of a pedophile uncle,
one line about The Plague in a history book, thin cry of a cold child,
finger sneaking up a politician's nose, root traveling sideways through garbage,
tightrope over the outhouse hole, yarn for knitting the eighth deadly sin,
skipping rope for slime mold, tendril of a creeping vine with teeth,
lie that curls in your stomach for days,
blind snake slithering through walls, running up my spine...

I covered it with newsprint
wished momentarily that I wasn't stunningly independent
here in my cabin-for-one in the woods
and could just play femme—
"Honey, can you deal with this please while I go make us some tea."

 

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