Roaches are like spots moving
… .. . .. . … .. . . … .
As a point, I see them out of place.
I focus in on reason and ponder then their fate.
I am God in this domain!
All hear me-
“ I wish they’d go away.”
Send them downstairs maybe
Or is that from where they came?
Stand clear, fore there I see one
Crawling in through space
And one standing boldly
In my cabinet, on a plate.
Where did I put the Raid?
Now spray, spray, stream.
Spray the shit on hard and mean.
Say “goodbye” to roaches’ dreams.
Yet dead and calm,
I think of what is wrong.
Underneath the whiff of napalm
And the cry of the Roaches Brigade.