for Franziska and her fat rats Pat a fat rat and make it happy Jog with a joyful dog through a bog Dig a big pig bring that hog to sing Rat-a-tat-tat and make it snappy Imagine many an anything And you can be a poet like me Happily making it snappily Something to show for your suffering Show me yours like I have shown you mine Not only the words the music too Drawn together on the lonely line Make it thump shake it to jump rope to And if this is nonsense then so what? The poet though the one who lives it Gives it so the reader forgives it Lives it with you when one becomes two Becomes four comes to make sense more and more What is this between but sense though seen This way to be what we may mean But maybe could not say another way? Maybe it is nonsense maybe not Nonsense may be what we were looking for When we were too sensible to see A sense of our nonsensicality Pat a fat rat and make it happy? Rat-a-tat-tat and make it snappy! Nonsense remembers what sense forgot The embers of the needful What makes sense in the present tense Of timeless comic karmic consequence Presented to the heedful Now when this is how nonsense makes sense Rat-a-tat-tat is the thing to bring When nonsense then can mean everything +Steven Curtis Lance Fat rat by Franziska Copyright MMXIV