Once upon a late night yon
as I turned off all the lights
my eyes happened to stumble on
a thing which gave me a small fright.
There upon my counter top
I spied a monstrous insect, brown
and black, antennae wave atop
as it scurried all around.
I froze for just an instant as
the insect also came to rest
beside my stove, so I assessed
the action that would be the best.
I found my orange insect swat
and crept upon the giant roach,
then down I slapped, the insect not
aware in time for it to broach
The safety of the stove. And then
it finally escaped my wrath,
it vanished by the stove again
and seemingly had the last laugh.
This morning, though, I also found
the bottle of the insect spray
that is the best stuff that’s around
for keeping cockroaches at bay.
So down the side, twixt stove and wall
I sprayed that stuff in large amounts
unknowing if I’d reach at all
the giant roach on any count.
Then hours passed before I thought
of looking for that roach once more,
but not in vain for him I sought,
for dead he lay upon the floor.
The toilet was his final grave
and I’m not sad to see him go,
because I know how to be brave
and return my house to status quo!
(This is quite possibly the worst poem I’ve ever written, for what it’s worth, but I’m also kind of proud to write such a terrible thing. Everything else must be better, right?)
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