Rat crime is rampant in New York City,
and a crackdown has come that isn’t pretty.
Trash can no longer go out before eight,
but for many small businesses, that is too late.

So sidewalks at rush hour finally are clear,
yet the rat race still has not disappeared.
Since rats are nocturnal and can come at dawn,
they met the restriction with one giant yawn.

So now the mayor is considering bins—
ones with tight tops that are made out of tin.
The cans will clutter the sidewalks a lot,
and worse, take up many parking spots.

Everyone wonders who will win this war
that’s now being led by a zealous “rat czar.”
The Mayor is lucky that rats can’t yet vote
given their treatment on his stinking boat.

About the Poem

The rat infestation in New York City seems to have reached biblical proportions as Mayor Adams tries to battle it, along with the usual problems of a large city.

About the Author

Anne Gruner loves to visit New York City, but hasn’t gone lately to personally verify the rat stories circulating in the media. Her poetry has appeared in a variety of publications, including this one. She lives in McLean, Virginia with her husband and two golden retrievers.

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