A church full of rats in elegant hats
were ready to pray to their lord.
The high priest of vermin always gave his sermon
from inside a hollowed-out gourd.
They sang of great scraps and afternoon naps
and filled every one of the pews.
The high priest did squeak, with food in his cheek,
and said, “Vermin, I have some good news.”
It seems the pizza rat, who’d stirred up human chat,
was going to be the guest at next week’s meeting.
He’d bring a map of spill zones and discarded food locales.
The congregation dreamed of better eating.
“He’ll show you a cafe down one dark alleyway
which has amazing food but not much seating.”
The service ended with tails intertwined.
Aside from cats, food preys on a rat’s mind.