Genus Rates

By Claire Scott

I am repelled
by rats. Loathsome long–tailed
repulsive rodents that carry contagion,
chew wires and chomp wood, leaving
toxic droppings along the way. Not exactly
Templeton from Charlotte’s Web.

Oakland, my home town, won
the award for the fourth “rattiest” city.
A dubious honor. But then again Oakland
doesn’t get many awards.
There was a minor celebration. A parade
with ten people singing Three Blind Mice.

So here we are with rats
scuttling our ivy, gnawing
holes in kitchen cupboards,
breeding in the crawl space,
thou shalt not kill
Six tiny babies. Sort of cute.
Did you know two rats can swell
to over a thousand in less than a year?
thou shalt not kill

I ordered a Tomcat Rat Snap Trap
from Amazon for $6.79. Baited it
with peanut butter. Set it out,
praying my karma wouldn’t be tarnished,
that I wouldn’t return as a revolting rodent
in my next life.
A bloated rat hanging half in and half out.
Neck snapped.
Score one.

Getting into the swing,
I ordered three more traps, set them out.
Two sprung, but empty. The third
with a sparrow, still fluttering
with a fading cheep cheep,
thou shalt not kill

I tossed the traps into the trash,
waved a wobbly white flag. The rats
are winning three to one. For sure
they will inherit this earth.
We will move to Mars, freezing
in our space suits, subject to dust storms,
exposed to cancer–causing radiation.
But more stars and moons.
And no rats.