A rat was eating grapes on my vine
So I set out to snap its spine

All very simple. What could go wrong?
But the truth arrived before very long

I baited the trap placed by his lair
And an innocent bird walked into my snare

Underground vermin was my prey
But it was female freedom I would slay

I plead accident but I was her hex
So what does that tell you about my sex?

Men say one thing and mean another
So the cunning rat is our perfect brother

Sick of dark holes where we must go
We raise ourselves up by pulling birds low

We scamper towards what comes from above
Cursing our claws for scaring the dove

And if she’s smart she takes to the skies
Leaving us to our treason and lies

Our crime is lust for her rainbow wings
All rats covet what flies and sings

We name our victims our sweet birds
Trying to confuse with swindling words

And to load her up we call her highness
Coaxing her closer with toothy slyness

We’ll do anything to block her flight
Turn trust to poison, gravity to spite

Rats can’t separate love from tunnelling
Likewise men – it’s just self funnelling

We say every time we’re digging for beauty
But really we’re just drilling for booty

And so we attack what most we crave
Make her our enemy to be no slave

Until a rat understands his own dirt
It’s the blameless bird who must get hurt.

Graeme Farmer

2 thoughts on “ALL MEN ARE RATS”

    1. Hello, Please forgive my tardy response. I am very flattered by your reaction to my scribblings. I take it that English isn’t your first language and I of course have no Hebrew so I am not even sure of your name. But Hi anyway! I have another poem I will post. Now that I have an audience – of one! – I am suffering from performance anxiety! I have not mastered anything about formatting so the poems that are written in quatrains end up as couplets. Very annoying! Best. Graeme

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