Rat’s Maze

Our rat’s maze. Our rat’s nest. Our lair of stupidity.


Our rhythms. Our roundelay. The round and round of our banter. The eternal return of our having nothing to say.


We object! We object to everything. We raise our voices – cry out! Shout out!

We shouldn’t be here. We shouldn’t exist. We shouldn’t be – and who made us be? Whose fault is this?  Why should we be?


Thrashing at the end of the line. Thrashing – and that’s our life, that’s thrashing. That’s who we are, that thrashing.


We’ve been caught in a trap. And we cry out because we’ve been caught in a trap. And the trap is life. And the trap is our lives. And the trap is time. Our lives, our time.


We sound it out – sound out the alarm. Which is really our alarm. Which is really the alarm of us.

We’re crying out, like car alarms. We’re thumping into the night. We’re screaming like banshees. A screaming in everything we say. Everything we do.