The Contract

A little while now,
My prayer has lazed on the windowsill
like one of those letters-to-the-prime-minister
complaining of rats in the water pipes.
“Quite out of my jurisdiction, my dear madam,”
(You would think the higher his office
the greater the reach of his dominion.
But it appears the contrary is true-
The queen, for example, may only concern herself with her toilette.)
“My apologies for the great inconvenience you have suffered,
but you did sign the contract
exculpating this government of any personal losses you may incur because of their incompetence.”
He retrieved, nay, he brandished my housing contract–
And so I had.

On the little dotted line…
I’d signed away the deed to my heart for a song.

A little while now,
the rats have overrun the basement.




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