it was a perfect day
the day only a Melbourne
autumn can produce.
Quiet, still with only whispers
for a breeze. On my way home,
a young girl of five or so whizzed
past me laughing. Her mother
kept watch as my large hulk
walked behind her. The young girl
stopped near my house. She was
looking down at something.
It was a dead rat that had its guts
split onto the footpath. The young
girl was laughing madly. I stopped
and stared looking at the ravaged
rat as if it was someone I knew.
I began to cry. The young
girl kept laughing.