The cockroach lying on the sidewalk
in front of me is dying
on his back, legs flailing he looks
like he is doing a workout video
‘exercise yourself to good health’
Kafka wrote of men, cockroaches
cockroaches never write
they don’t even know from wrong
insects bug me, Kafka? Not so much.
I sit down on my front step
watching the cockroach exer-die
his little legs pedaling invisible,
imaginary bike – or maybe yoga?
his legs move slower, slower
barely twitching, they then stop.
I await the arrival of another
cockroach to do perform CPR
or maybe a cicada, to note TOD
realizing I am late for work
I stand, leaving the cockroach there
to whatever fates await dead bugs,
before heading for the car.
I don’t even bother with a prayer
the cockroach, I presume,
has his own theology
– Mark L. Lucker