The Underbelly

Walking on the subway platform, waiting for a train,
A movement just ahead did catch my eye.
A nice-sized rat was wrestling with a cracker bag and oh,
I startled everybody with my cry.

My husband joined me in the yell – instinctively, it seems.
The rat reared up but held onto his prize
And scampered further down the track, his treasure in his teeth,
Where no one stood to holler or despise.

A small old woman watched the scene and slowly shook her head,
Acknowledging not horror, but defeat.
“If people weren’t slobs, you know, the rats would disappear,
For we provide the garbage that they eat.”

The train approached; the woman headed where the rat remained,
Unbothered by the route that it had taken.
My spouse and I, who’d backed away, got on the train, relieved,
Though both of us were rather skeeved and shaken.