the rat's dance

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the rat's dance

Post by Guest on Sat Sep 29, 2012 9:27 am

this poem is dedicated to the poor rat that died in a trap in nats' oven
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"The Rat's Dance"

by

Ted Hughes



The rat is in the trap, it is in the trap,
And attacking heaven and earth with a mouthful of
screeches like torn tin,

An effective gag.
When it stops screeching, it pants

And cannot think
"This has no face, it must be God" or

"No answer is also an answer."
Iron jaws, strong as the whole earth

Are stealing it's backbone
For a crumpling of the Universe and screechings,

For supplanting every human brain inside its skull with a
rat-body that knots and unknots,
A rat that goes on screeching,

Trying to uproot itself into each escaping screech,
But its long fangs bar that exit -

The incisors bared to the night spaces, threatening the
constellations,

The glitterers in the black, to keep off,

Keep their distance,
White it works this out.

The rat understands suddenly. It bows and is still,
With a little beseeching of blood on its nose-end.

Guest
Guest


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