Sunday Night In The Kitchen Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Yes, I am flattered,
but not enough
to spare you, little shit,
a roach of any
colour smells, and looks
just as disgusting,
do not, please,
try to persuade
or sway opinion
of the community,
no way, we need
to do away with
scum like you.
I realise that
your own taste
was similar
to that of mine,
but no regret
and no delay,
I smacked
the living daylights,
yes, it is trite,
but nonetheless,
you were quite dead
when I was done
and never will
partake of mine,
the breaded veal
in cutlet morsels
it's all for me
and not for you.
But, trust me
little motherfucker,
I do believe
from observation,
that you were full
and satisfied,
from that one piece
that I found missing.
I would not want,
it is the truth,
let any enemy of mine
go out in style
but fiercely hungry.