Conversation With A Cockroach

I’m trying to have a conversation with a cockroach
And intermittently punching myself in the head
Because my reflection in the bathroom mirror
Won’t respond unless I say something
But the cockroach appears independent
I tell him to stop moving his right antenna
And just wiggle his left one if he understands
But they both keep moving
I don’t think he understands
But he pauses when I speak
Maybe it’s just the wind of my breath
And I feel remorseful for the many deaths
Of his brothers and sisters that I have caused
They meant no harm, they just do
Whatever it is cockroaches do
Yet I impose my own restrictions
And regulations and justifications
And I wonder why these poor maligned bastards
Don’t just rise up and take control
They’ve gotta have the numbers
And possibly intelligence in abundance
Continually confounding our best attempts
To wipe them out, to take control
And you’re all worried about Islam
And Jihadist suicide bombers
And fiscal fluctuations and leaders with less than a promise
And taxes and death and Shakespeare and Socrates
“But I’ll tell you what!”
He finally relents and drops his guise, much to my surprise
“You’re all worried about Armageddon come
Fool, it’s now with the insect, not yet with the gun”

October 2008 Derek Wilson

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~ by delboywilson on April 5, 2009.

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