Cockroach, The

Inspired and incentivized by William Blake’s “The Tiger,” and a large, black, shiny, intrusive ‘guest.’

Cockroach, The

Cockroach! Cockroach! Scurrying fast
On the day that’ll be your last
What mortal hand or eye
Could let you live when you should fry?

From what germy deep or hollow,
Do you have friends and do they follow?
On what wings will you fly up in my face?
Leaving me quivering, flailing with bug-mace.

And that nerve, and that gall,
Can only spur you towards that fatal fall,
And when thy heart begins to beat,
Realize my home is not a treat.

What the bug bomb? What the spray?
As my nerves crack and fray,
What, the bathroom? What, no clothes?
Beastie, crawly feet atop my bare toes.

When the cleaning fluid hit the floor,
Is when he realized there would be no more,
Did he learn his lesson complete?
Poisoned, papered, bagged and beat.

Cockroach! Cockroach! Scurrying fast
On the day that’ll be your last
What mortal hand or eye
Could let you live when you should fry?

Details:

You’re currently reading “Cockroach, The,”

Published:
7.12.07 / 10am
Category:
amusing incidents, what i call life, unschoolish