RAT KILLERS - a poem.

RAT KILLERS

"It's just a rat,
     man,
I don't see why,
     you're so disturbed,"
          Billy laughed

at me as I crouched
     so lowly
to wonder at, and to witness
     the senseless mess
          Billy made.

"You got birdshot,
     not ratshot, Billy
and still no dinner," I says,
     "none and nothing,
          even less, now."

"And you got buckshot.
     Shit.
          Who cares?"
Billy turned away,
     started walking down that path.

Didn't have to see his tail
     to know, officer,
I knew, and aimed, and fired.
     It's just a rat,
          man.