Slava Olchevski

Rookie - 20 Points (1964 / St.Petersburg, Russia)

Rats. - Poem by Slava Olchevski

Through the act of amazing Grace
I quit running in a rat race

Believe me, please! Don’t get me wrong
I am still a rat, the rat I was born

Like father, like son I have the same scent
Eyes, whiskers and tail all one hundred percent

I eat the same food and poop in exchange
It is not physical, it is mental change

I have never known, I would never guess
That all my life I was in a rat race

I asked that question never before:
Hey, rats! What are we racing for?

Life of a rat is not easy
Gods decided to keep us busy

The rat race is an important feature of our society
It’s purpose is increasing the level of anxiety

It’s goal is to maintain the status quo
When you are in a rat race: It’s all Quid pro Quo

To get food and shelter, procreate and stay in power
Were my driving forces too, until I met the Other

Without warning, without sign
A creature appeared, in itself divine

My mind went blank, I thought I was dead
And then I heard a voice in my head

It told me about the evolution
Future wars and revolutions

The specs of light in the darkness above
About Commandments that we shall follow and love

I was overwhelmed, I was concerned
I realized that we made a wrong turn…

And this is what I said to the Other
We rats care about each other

When I am talking to you face-to-face
I represent the entire rats’ race

Being intelligent creatures and such
I think you are asking a little too much

Screw the evolution, stop the race
Let us be who we are. Close the case!

All right, the answer came from the darkness
I will let you be.. I will pick on monkeys.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 22, 2009



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