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  • Writer's pictureJohn Grey

What I Share This House With


The steps to the basement are dark.

The basement itself is even darker.

Something scurries across the damp floor.

Most likely a rat.

At least, that’s what I’m hoping.


The kitchen is bright enough.

But, as a creature slips in and out

of the cranny under the stove,

I see only its shadow.


I thought I saw a tail.

If only I’d seen the whole thing,

my mind would not be racing

with such possibilities.


The walls of my bedroom are hollow.

My attempts at sleep are filled

with much scampering.

More rats.

At least, I pray they’re rodents.


On this cold night,

the bed is warm.

But I’m not alone beneath the sheets.

Something is in here with me,

darting up and down my leg.


Gnaw on my toes, if you must.

I’ve got ten.

But I have just the one soul.

And there are beings extant

that will take liberties


 

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in New World Writing, Santa Fe Literary Review, and Lost Pilots. Latest books, Between Two Fires, Covert and Memory Outside The Head are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Seventh Quarry, La Presa and California Quarterly.

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