My killing sprees have been limitedto roaches and ants,all of whom will return Judgment Dayto get even for the spray cans of Raid,for luring them onto the kitchen linoleumwith granulated sugar,for …
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My killing sprees have been limited
to roaches and ants,
all of whom will return Judgment Day
to get even for the spray cans of Raid,
for luring them onto the kitchen linoleum
with granulated sugar,
for lethal soft-soled shoes,
for the torching of red ants
with Diamond Kitchen Matches—
they deserved it because
they were different and mean—
then using a magnifying glass
to burn off the stragglers,
to show how rockets incinerate
when nearing the sun.
Now it’s all peace and love,
but it was different in those
deep, dark, bloodthirsty days,
when I was a one man
entomological Gestapo
wearing the uniform
all depraved children wear,
khaki shorts and a day camp t-shirt,
the same thing Brueghel’s hunters wore
beneath their heavy overcoats.
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