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Here are the other
two views. In the 7
years I lived in
Southern California,
I've lived from El Monte
to the Beach.
I loved those neighbor-
hoods. I made lots of
loving friends. Many
had suffereed a great
deal in their countries
because of war, no way
to support one's self,
and the ever watchful
eye of Imigration.
Oh! I almost forgot,
that plinking sound.
Well, I used to swing
my trash up on the
towel rack at night
so the rats wouldn't
get to it. You don't
really want to know
this.
Yes it was baby rats.
They were jumping
up and down in the
plastic garbage
can, and couldn't
get out.
Sometimes there
would be five or
six of them all
trying to get out,
but couldn't.
I am scaird to
death of rats
even baby ones,
But I was all
alone, so very
carefully, I
picked up the
garbage can,
and let all the
baby mice slide
out...the window.
Too bad they
couldn't fly. The
cat's got hip to the
scene right away,
and would wait
for me to throw
the rats out.
What a life,
for a rat!
People hated
the rats so
much in that
building, they
kept writing
"Ratones"
everywhere,
on the doors,
on the walls,
on the
bannisters.
The only place
that wasn't
graffittied
was the rats
themselves.
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