Cockroach Concert
All thanks to William Wordsworth, one of our greats
I wandered in my kitchen round
floating high on cocaine broaches
all at once guess what I found
a nest of golden cockroaches
inside the stove, beside the fridge
singing and dancing on every ridge
Continuous gold in costumes fine
eyes a-twinkling; looks of gay
parades in never-ending lines
the bug-stards out in full array
ten thousand I would estimate
with spindly legs on roller skates
They weaved and waved in glorious tune
to Bug Stars' hit "We're wild and free"
well good to make a poet swoon
to hear such perfect harmony
I gazed in wonder at this troupe
outdoing any pro rock group
Skilled crooners crooned while chorus girls
in-sync tap-tapped and showed slim knee
with hoops and loops and swirls and twirls
each pitch they met with practiced ease
involuntarily I swayed
blew air kisses in accolade
Now oft in bed when sleep eludes
in vacant and depressive mode
their scrabble on my mind intrudes
as on my food their sh-t they load
and then my heart with rue is stocked
cocaine's a bug-ger!! I'll smoke my socks!!
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