Unbearably Unbreakable

A cockroach

never killed 

or cured 

anybody.

A cockroach

is made to be stepped at

with a hard heel

and a black booth

lustingly,

disgustingly crunching

on the tiles of your bathroom-floor.

There is no pity

in a cockroach,

or in me for it,

and I totally fail to see the beauty

in its persistent stubbornness

and its stubborn persistence

even if it is rather pretty 

as insects go.

A cockroach

begs to be loathed.

One could almost admire

its ongoing refusal of suicide.

But no.

They have to go.