2am Roaches

2am Roaches

These small omens,
have they souls? Have they wishes?
Silently watching, these

crawling maroon witnesses
on the benches, the dishes.
Surely they tap out

messages in Morse code
with their hooked toes.
A wartime bulletin.

Those near-blind crawlers,
Will they inherit the earth?
perhaps it’s unavoidable.

They are the timeless,
the immortal. The faceless
all-conquering empire,

to which evil should aspire.
They toppled Rome, they drove
Hitler to his final chamber.

They devised crimes against humanity
Under the fridge there, can’t you see?
They plan their final ambush.

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