In The Court Of The Cockroach King Poem by D A Phinney

The broken drains and dirty spoons,
Food spattered on the wall;
On coffee grounds and Kool-Aid stains
I stumble down the hall.
The purple termites eat the rooms;
The ants converge to bring
A crust of pie and some ancient dung
For the court of the Cockroach King.

Sped forward by the leaping fleas
I slip on grapefruit rind,
And fall onto the kitchen floor,
Which coats my face with slime.
The Ant Queen chants the cat-box dirge,
The maggots writhe and sing
To summon back my last night's meal
To the court of the Cockroach King.

The garden bugs crawl through window screens
And trample on my flour.
I swat at flies with a celery whip
At ponds of milk gone sour.
The caterpillars feed on rot;
The crickets jump and spring,
As roaches laughing dance on pots
In the court of the Cockroach King.

As soft grey stinkbugs foul the air
The ants begin to crawl,
And push an object dark and round
To stand against the wall;
The swarming legions rush to aid
And form the terror-ring,
As they crucify a can of Raid
In the court of the Cockroach King.