Saturday, January 31


Your dead on your bed,
as cockroaches come in.
They devour your head,
like a drunk drinking gin.

As cockroaches come in
they cover your bed.
They consume all your skin
like men being fed.

They devour your head
in the silence of night;
they begin to shred
like a razor in flight.

Like a drunk drinking gin,
on a cold dark night,
your daughter staggered in...
to a monstrous sight.

Cockroaches by K. Saitta © 2015, A Walk In Verse