This poem should explain. I had to turn my light on at midnight and scratch it out on a piece of paper in case I should forget it by morning.
Over My Head
There’s a little town stirring up over my head
as I lie awake listening at night on my bed.
What ratty doings are happening up there?
Is world domination being discussed in their lair?
What’s all the scurry and scuttle about?
Planning your “day” – going out and about?
Maybe you’re having a ball or barn dance?
Or perhaps just a little ratty “romance?!”
Maybe tending the brood’s just a little too grueling,
perhaps you’re wishing you hadn’t chosen nest-schooling!
Maybe it’s just hockey season up there in my attic.
That could explain why things sound so erratic!
What ratty things go on up over my head
as I lie awake listening at night on my bed?
I cannot but guess what’s brought all this noise on…
Oh wait… could it be the effects of that package of POISON?