Forthcoming in Flying South 2015
Remember, folks, the delete key is your whacker
against acyrologia. You’ve killed a roach before, right?
Same thing.
Mr. Fornaciari, my sixth grade English teacher,
grew up poor in Boston and watched I Love Lucy re-runs
every day after school. When roaches crawled over his legs
he smooshed them with a tennis racket.
He said they smelled like apples gone bad.
Back in college and high on pot,
I flung a giant roach off my balcony
by making a toe claw with my right foot.
Years later while hosting an open mic
in downtown Raleigh,
Some in our audience jumped
like marionettes caught in turbulence.
Before the fat sucker could slink into a wall crack,
I killed him with the sign-up clipboard.
Compadres, to be a great editor,
lay waist all over the keyboard,
in your intimate and fare wisdom,
ring your fingers as the fumes
waif their decent and whale
like Lucy gobbling palates
of chocolate roaches
too sweet for her pallet.