Infested. Have your gutter, float your sewer, suck your teeth. Nibble on the edges, the trash cans and grease pits. Get on the take, man. Get real.
Chatter chatter, it's a show, the buzz of larceny. The weak squeaks of rodents in wait, knowing the eventual slumber of the masses. Traps and poisons and baits, they've seen them all, they live on. And will. The revenge of the capital rat.
For now, stay protected, seal up the cracks, sweep up the crumbs. Those sniffers will move on, looking for easy scores. Plenty of garbage to sift, scraps to lick. This place is too doomy, this place is too gloomy. Might as well party, might as well have tunes.
