TO KILL A COCKROACH (TAKE 2)

Cockroach, cockroach
dashing across my
kitchen floor:

You were shameless
and ugly, but you
are no more.

Where did you come
from? Did I carry
you home from the

store? Or how about that
messy neighbor with
his beer cans and

garbage galore? Did you stagger
to my place, after he booted
you out the door? Now I'll

never learn the truth
because I came up with the
perfect cure: A little bit of

Lysol spray - made you
gasp your last, I'm sure.
You're not as daring and

quick on your feet as
you used to be before.
Just a disgusting creature

on its back, never to nibble
on my crackers anymore:
or shamelessly sip from my

unguarded cup. Show a
little respect for the poor!
Good riddance to your

filthy habits and hunger:
You will not disturb
me anymore. With

one swift flush
I bid you farewell:
Is that not what a toilet is for?


Copyright © 2009 by Dylan Mitchell 

THE MOON AND THE YEW TREE

WHAT THE MINISTER DID NOT SAY

(for Elizabeth)

she left home at thirteen she lived with a man old
enough to be her father she was a mother at four-
teen she washed clothes in a tub she liked Elvis
she smoked she worried about her thin hair she
ate a lot of macaroni and cheese she had trouble
sleeping she set traps for the mice she played
cards she was fond of people and animals she
owned a used typewriter she had few friends she
dreamed of a better life she died young

Poem © 2013 by Dylan Mitchell