The Roachkiller Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

I sat at my computer then
out in the soundproof little den
was munching on some Gouda cheese
when like a small but ugly tease
a roach of rather stout dimension
was looking at me, there was tension
in him and me, we both could feel it
I grabbed a book, and to conceal it
hid it behind my aching back
while getting ready to attack.
But when I moved the slightest bit
he eyed me, waiting for the hit
there was a brain inside that roach
he used it on my first approach
sidestepping, hiding in the shade
where is that stupid can of Raid?
At last I threw the book at him
to put an end to life and limb
of this so uninvited guest
it's always when you try your best
that something happens to derail
the best-laid plans and then you fail.
The roach went home to tell his wife
that he avoided nasty strife
by being smarter than that man
I'm working on a better plan.