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I found a cockroach in the sink.

I couldn’t kill it, so I let it struggle.

Hours later I saved it with a paper and a cup.

It wanted to kill me. It didn’t run away

Like an ordinary beetle. It raised its arms,

Moving like a Sumo wrestler, heavy

In its backside, and light as a feather

Up near its tiny fists.

When it played dead at the bottom of the glass,

I dropped it between two cherry trees.

You were asleep in the bed. You were trying to see out

From under your eyelids. You were sort of smiling.

Sometimes I drink a beer in the morning.

I like the cold shock on the tongue; I like the mercy.
Posted 07/17/16
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