The Unicorn, The Sewer Rat, and the Tulip

Bars of light and shadow striped across the white hide, the spiraled horn, and the glaring red eyes that stared up with frustration turned to hate.

"I stand beneath you,
a jewel in the muck," the unicorn said to the crowd walking above the sewer grate,
"but unless the wind blows wrong,
you do not give a fuck."

Not one of the people paused at the words issuing from the grate beneath their feet, but then none of them expected creatures of myth and legend to be anywhere around, much less under their boots.

"My ears!" complained a sewer rat bobbing to the surface. "Your poetry has deteriorated along with your state in life.

'My ears must suffer,
because this fool
wishes
for a virgin over which to croon'," the rat chanted a mockery of the unicorn's poetry.

"I know," the unicorn admitted, lowering his head. "I think it used to be better, but perhaps it was just the uncritical audience. Virgins, y'know."


Inspiration: http://cloudscudding.livejournal.com/754108.html
Story Potential: Low.
Notes: And...the unicorn's horn brings a tulip back to life. And there's all sorts of orchids in this sewer paradise, because of the unicorn. But--eek. Maybe, maybe this would be an interesting idea without the poetry.