bugged

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
© 2017
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

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