Plague Rats Beget
My ancestors crossed
The Sahara with rats plagued
Rich with penury
My ancestors arrived in Spain in search of an oasis that was a mirage. The oasis would appear one-half-mile ahead beyond them, and at their arrival disappear. In this way they crossed the Sahara with plague rats in their camel sacks.
At the straits they crossed on a ghost ship, the rats now rich with penury. My ancestors joined the conquest and helped build a minaret in Alhambra. There my ancient Moor forefather raped my ancient Spanish foremother in a rheumatic alleyway infested with the ghost ship’s rats that were on an ascension to the throne.
This was my bountiful bequest that arrived across centuries of impalements to the heart. Now I juggle my multitude of children, every third one floats away on a convection of air that carries them back across the Atlantic to begin the cycle once more.
We’re going to feed two people
I have Infinite feed.
Do they need to be full?
What I’m Reading:
“Locks are only amulets of inconvenience that remind us of a social contract we ultimately benefit from.”
— Jaron Lanier / You Are Not A Gadget