THE RATS THAT PASS BY ZAC DUNN | ART BY HARI REN The streets sleep only as many winks as the sky and trucks collecting refuse at dawn will allow. The tiny steps of tiny creatures scurried like rain drops that turn to HAIL and thump louder than the tiny breathe taken. Squeezing like shrill BIRDS of paradise SINGS a tune under the lush CANOPY of VINES and MANDRILL hands crawling slow up old trees. Mating the match to outsmart the last PIGEON’s torrent that consumes foods left to ROT, they ought not beg for scraps and simply take OVER. But across the block an EEK of a RAT calls GYRATION and the invitation to dance next to gutters and utter sweet nothing SQUEAKS that summon the next GENERATION. So perilously quick and sick to scamper over TARMAC so BLACK, the TAR and FEATHERS of FLAT PIGEONS not so clever to land up for a PECK. But breathe that is followed by the SEMI wheel that pushes its CARCAS into LOIN CLOTH of the KING OF THE ROAD. The RAT eyes it spies lies wait just several more steps ahead and over the JELLY RED PIGEON mess. A tail curled up tight on a filthy backside and a breathe of WILD on WING of PAWS that claw faster to not be No. 147 FLAT TOO. But the IMPALA hood was a good enough home for the eve to find an old brown pack SACK and SHACK UP for the night to MAKE SQUEAT LOVE in the DEAD OF NIGHT. A half crescent MOON smiles down on a crisp evening of glory, not failure that tires call JOY, ROLLING OVER ALL and making the CIRCLE a SQUARE, that sits so pretty next to anything else lucky enough to taste the RADIAL’s text messages. But GOOD YEARS and RAT babies yawn at DAWN for the NEXT chance to slip out and take another chance or step or bite of PIZZA crust that the LUSTY LADIES discard in haste wearing DIVINE fancy BOOTS. The RATS THAT PASS laugh last as the remains sustains the brood and crew to do in instinct what they were only formed TO DO. 5:44 10.12.24.0000003 OGE IG: @UZIEGO | TUMBLR: @SAVAGESNEVERSLEEPNYC HARA REN, STREET - @HARIR3N
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