poetry, Thoughts

ferment : the memoir of a rat

Recently my therapist challenged me. I mentioned a host of different scenarios where I’d either caused myself or others heartache. To be honest…it went a bit further than that. I spoke to her about those dark and slimy parts of our personality we want no one to hear about. To give you an example, it’s the type of acts you bow your head in shame while you admit it.

She proceeded to challenge me, and asked me “When you do such and such, what do you feel?” I mentioned a variety of different awkward feelings. She then pushed me again, a little harder this time, and I blurted out “It makes me feel like a rat.” She loved the image. Later on in the session, she mentioned that I should write a poem about it. I shrugged my shoulders rather reluctantly, and said something along the lines of “Yeah, I should do it sometime.”

Every time I was challenged to write about a nuance that unsettled (and sometimes even frightened me) I resisted. Well, this evening I managed to conquer that one irrational voice. Partially sparred to get away from everything (after an altercation at work), I rode down to the beach this evening. I sat on a tiny wooden bench under a few trees, and proceeded to dig into the dark corners of my psyche. The place that few dare to go. The place where I find the rat.

ferment : the memoir of a rat

a rat that crawls through
a network of garbage
he crawls between ropes
of a salient psyche
he does not see
his skewed face
in the stagnant gruel
he wades through

an integrated person can
read the conditions
peel off conclusions
engulf his mind
with symbols and strings

but he is a rat – he waits

for the crowd
to absorb his chuckle
so he can slip into
the folds of their narcissism

he wears cheap jokes
as course as solitude
and lithe as a glove

he scampers along
a network of memories
cardboard pardons
cracked opinions that
are best when boxed away
in the sordid alley
of the unconscious

it stretches too far
tender fingers to touch
maternal mutters to goad
internal traffic to narrate

all he knows are the
brutal black bags
gathering a sense of things
they shiver
their cold bodies coalesce

silver street lamps
carve chapters into skin
into veins of decay
where a rat chooses to live
and wrestle
cerebral wires
binding his bones to
an oily existence



4 thoughts on “ferment : the memoir of a rat

  1. Oh my goodness! an amazing article dude. Thank you However I am experiencing issue with ur rss . Don’t know why Unable to subscribe to it. Is there anyone getting identical rss problem? Anyone who knows kindly respond. Thnkx

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