When the rat had come back to the attic and woke him to its scratching
at the poison he’d laid that would be its bane for sure he felt no pity
for a death that had to happen but only some dread or antique horror
at having the close space above his head invaded and so shared
by a creature of such sharp dark-fixed intent who would obey its own
ravening appetite and bright teeth and eat him out of house and home
by gnawing to the bone each tingling terrified toothsome morsel.
