Johnie Waromi: Rats

Rats stop me in my path
The rats now hoisting a flag
              and looking cynically my way
The rats embracing a flagpole
legs planted stiffly on the garbage bin
The flag, of indeterminate colors
flutters in the night
Which way the wind blows is uncertain
The rats that cross my path and the gutter
fly their flag high, as high as a minaret
              as high as a church steeple
              as high as a temple’s peak.
Whose national flag is it anyway
              that flutters in the night.
Field rats, kitchen rats, gutter rats, garbage rats
tree rats, rice rats, city rats,
stand in formation at the flagpole’s base
paying respect to the night rats

on their memorial day.

The rats that bar my way as I go home
              together carrying the multi-colored flag
Laugh giddily to see me stop in my tracks.

Published 2012, translated by John McGlynn. Johnie Waromi is from Indonesian Papua. The rats are more than just rats.