Cockroach Concert

All thanks to William Wordsworth, one of our greats I wandered in my kitchen round floating high on cocaine broaches all at once guess what I found a nest of golden cockroaches inside the stove, beside the fridge singing and dancing on every ridge Continuous gold in costumes fine eyes a-twinkling; looks of gay parades in never-ending lines the bug-stards out in full array ten thousand I would estimate with spindly legs on roller skates They weaved and waved in glorious tune to Bug Stars' hit "We're wild and free" well good to make a poet swoon to hear such perfect harmony I gazed in wonder at this troupe outdoing any pro rock group Skilled crooners crooned while chorus girls in-sync tap-tapped and showed slim knee with hoops and loops and swirls and twirls each pitch they met with practiced ease involuntarily I swayed blew air kisses in accolade Now oft in bed when sleep eludes in vacant and depressive mode their scrabble on my mind intrudes as on my food their sh-t they load and then my heart with rue is stocked cocaine's a bug-ger!! I'll smoke my socks!!