They came marching in a
single blackened line
I really do not mind
Those tiny black bodies
with their six legs
as long as they stay
on the ground
But they do not
they crawl in and out
of the sink
the fridge
the drains
they slither in the whole wheat bread
that I bought
They crawled every where
I had to spray

I didn't want to
I really don't mind if they stay on the ground
but they don't
so I sprayed
Behind the counter
In the threshold where they entered
In the cupboard where they feasted
upon my food
Under and on dirtied sink tiles
Every where I sprayed
I didn't want to

But it was fun
(I must admit)
To watch the tiny black bodies
squirm in their poison
to watch them spend their last
bits of energy towards certain
Raid death.
It made me chuckle
I didn't want to
I really don't mind
as long as they stay on the ground.

Park

I went to a park once
not far from where I spent
my summer
I went there to sneak
(as those that hide must do)
a smoke

I sat on a small curb
dirtied and tarred
with my knees holding my head
stared at a vacant playground

the poles
the slides
the chutes
did not stir
in the night breeze
that the blew the elm tree leaves

The dew kissed dust
in the silent sandbox
was settled without
a standing sand castle
or fortified bunker
for the imaginary soldiers to hide

In that quiet howl of the wind
it was late
No kids played under the moon
No child laughed or cried
over their scraped knee
or sweetheart stolen

The swings were silent

It was not how I remembered
That playground
So I stayed a distance
away from the sandbox threshold
Unable to go where
the childeren
weren't