ode to the Orkin man

Oh, Mr Orkin man, with your uniform and boots.
You spray liquid death onto the spindly evil
that lurks within the house of my roots.

You recognize the telltale signs of bugs in my dwelling.
You kill the roaches on contact
and keep those ticks from swelling.


Your boots walk my floors but never leave residual..

You wear a helmet, but I'm not sure why.
You have a backpack of pesticide.

which you pump
and pump
and pump
and shoot behind the refridge-ual.

(FREE VERSE)

Your job is to eliminate the pests,
with a license to kill
an entomological James Bond,
there's one on the windowsill.

The day that you are scheduled
I rejoice for I surely know
that soon twill be the end of
those spiders that plague me so.

I dance with glee and revel in that chemical smell

that will make the arachnids no longer.

I pray to the creator (who made em in the first place)

That the toxins won't mutate them and make 'em stronger!

(HAIKU)
5- Van with plastic roach
7- tie wearing angel of death
5- this house has been cleansed

Ode to the Orkin man, with a bright gleam in your eye
You unpack your equipment and whisper softly:
"Die! Die! Die!"

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.