Nola Perez Poet Rhyme

Twilight of the Cucaracha

In my spotless kitchen when I turned
on the light, there's this ambulatory inkspot
scuttling from sight.  Dare I name it?
even the name is ugly.  Roach, penultimate
horror, black and bug-ly.  I'm a swat team
of the broom and spray bottle Clorox for
the odorous demise of this miniscule lummox.  
Uneducated insect, he deserved to die,
didn't even try to move up in evolution,
become part of the solution.  I wish this fate
for all of his ilk, as I sit "sans" remorse
to read Silk-o, Momaday, and Rilke.

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Andrea Dietrich December 28, 2011 at 6:01 PM awesome!! reading your most recent post just verifies what I said to you before seeing this one.

John Loving Iii December 27, 2011 at 6:55 PM they say if you see one a hundred are hiding behind the walls. i remember staying the summer with relatives. go into the kitchen and trun on the light; it's like they are defying gravity as they scudder behind pictures and into cracks. and in less than a minute the kitchen is clean again. John Loving Iii December 27, 2011 at 6:57 PM kids and roaches they go together

Anne-Lise Andresen December 27, 2011 at 2:43 PM WOW.....oxox hugs Anne-Lise

John Smith December 19, 2011 at 1:18 PM Love your poem but; he'll still be here long after we evolve into non-existence.