Cobalt Roaches Poem by John W. McEwers

Whisk whisk whisk
sherp sherp sherp
Slide scitter scatter
on the floor
under the door
of the fridge
on a linoleum bridge
all these roaches
running blue
'cause they're sad
they're not with you
but with me
and they see
what I'll unconditionally be

Just a watcher
just a pusher
just a peddler
of free

Just a hoper
just a dreamer
just a silly
little me

And the cobalt tiny roaches
with my head tilted off side
look like happy little runners
holding trophies in mid-stride

and they gleam and they gleam
in the phosphorescent sun
would I have killed the little buggers
I'd be the only miserable one

left to sink
left to rot
left to reek
of salty seas

where my tears O' my tears
shine on me.