by Matthew Johnson
To be read in the tone of a tour guide.
You may have come from lands
Where seeing squirrels, or other rodents, scurrying about,
Reminds you of the opening to a Snow White song,
But the rats here are not like that.
Do not feed the rats.
The rats do not sing.
The rats do not want your friendship.
The rats do not flinch, nor do they forgive,
So do not bother them.
The rats have survived more than you:
Be it the F-train,
Toddlers in strollers,
Teenagers with scooters,
Or frantic pigeons in debt.
Do not pet the rats.
The rats know nothing of hymns or hay;
They know steam vents and storm drains.
These rats are diesel-scented, sewer-seasoned creatures
That may or may not be
Proficient in plague.
Again, do not feed or pet the rats.
If you see a rat,
Don’t follow it. Don’t name it.
Admire the animal from afar.
Carry sanitizer like it was a charm.
Know your exits and antiseptics.
But please, do not feed the rats.
© 2025 Matthew Johnson All rights reserved.
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