inner rat maze, by carrie magness radna

my Bluetooth headphones
blasted & lambasted my ear holes
as I threw away my daily trash—

flip flopped, slightly tipsy
from tequila as I shrunk
little by little, as I followed
the path to the garbage room,
nimbly gesturing like a common
NYC rat, who was skipping out
from the subway for a while.

My 9th floor now looks like a maze;
the favorite cheese is now hidden from view,
the blues have settled
deep into my bones—

the other rats are safe
from sickness
inside their homes.

my headphones announce gleefully;
I chirp back: “Yes!”
as I enter my haven,
still safe from any known infection—

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