Tuesday 118: Poem

The Rat

I want to achieve unimaginable fame.
I see no downside 
to celebrity, &
don’t buy the gripes.

I’d still dream of my body 
buckling
under its bottom rib.

The sun would still blight the slope
of the yard.
But if I was famous

I could do anything I wanted,
anytime,
in famous places, 
with my famous friends.
& I’d be very rich, and very happy.

& it’s not like the solitary rat 
wouldn’t eat seeds 
off the flagstone anymore,
dragging low his happy, solitary 
belly.