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I flick them off a forearm
or a thigh, squish them
under heel or thumb
the black ones
small and large alike
one time saw a critter
crawling across
white kitchen tile
vigorous and struggling
under the broken body weight
of his dried up comrade
and felt nearly awestruck
by his valiant efforts
to carry his brother
to safety
as I crushed them both
under my toes;
the traps in the corner
are insufficient
and the man fixing
my front porch shows me
how over years
the destructive devils
have chewed through
the thick joists
supporting the deck
reduced them to sawdust
it’s an unwinnable war
he says smiling -
carpentry is his sideline
most days he plays
double bass for the
city philharmonic and
on weekends
directs a church choir
I don't know where
he finds time for woodwork
but he needs
the extra cash
and it 'keeps me sane' he says
in steady measured tones
between buzzsaw screams
(he wears ear protection
goggles and gloves)
I holler at him
aren't you worried
about severing a finger
it could happen
in a split second
of inattention
the mind does tend to wander
life is filled with risks
he answers offhandedly
and I say to myself
he's right
he’s a good guy
I think
I'll let him live.