When I moved in that morning
I had received no warning
of the scuttling and swarming
taking place beneath the floor.
Oh, the horrors that were lurking!
I was so naively working
without a clue that I’d be blerk-ing
when I came in the front door.
In the crannies dark and grubby
the invaders made their cubby
growing stronger, getting chubby
on the ancient crumbs of yore.
They’d a thousand spots to settle:
under toaster, under kettle,
under marble, wood or metal,
‘twixt the dishwasher and drawer.
When the evening descended
their antennae they extended
and they found the kitchen splendid
and they crept out to explore.
Then upon the thieves, I blundered
and I very nearly chundered
for there must have been a hundred
on the benchtops that I saw
which had scurried out to greet me!
Some looked big enough to eat me!
They had overrun completely!
There were COCKROACHES GALORE.
And from every foul freeloader
of sub-phylum Hexapoda
came a most revolting odour!
How I screamed, and how I swore
for like many Aussie writers
I have seen my share of biters
and I hardly flinch at spiders
but a cockroach, I abhor.
Like some Mortein gladiator
like an insect Terminator
I said, ‘See you buggers later!’
held my breath and set my jaw
and I sprayed them straight to Hades –
all the monsters, all the babies.
Now they’re pushing up the daisies;
the invaders are no more.
at least until tomorrow
for in every grimy hollow
the survivors in their sorrow
chitter, ‘Human, this means war.’