HIDE AND SEEK
I DO LOOK KINDLY AT EACH ONE BEFORE
I SQUASH THEM. I DON’T GO INTO
HYSTERICS. ON THAT DRAINBOARD,
WHEN I PUT THE LIGHT ON, AND MOVE
SOMETHING, THEY SCOOT. THEY FIND
ONE THING, AND ALWAYS WITHOUT
FAIL, GET BEHIND IT ON THE OPPOSITE
SIDE FROM WHERE I AM AND STAY PUT.
I ALWAYS WOULD GO FOR THE SPRAY OR
SWATTER, AND NOT SEE THEM, SO FEEL
THEY GOT AWAY, BUT NOT SO. THEY
DON’T MOVE AT ALL, THEY JUST WAIT
UNTIL I GIVE UP. SO, THE OTHER NIGHT
THIS HAPPENED, AND I SAW WHERE IT
HIS, I TOOK MY TIME GETTING THE
SWATTER, I MOVED EVERYTHING OUT
OF THE WAY FOR CLEAR SWATTING, AND
THEN I WAS READY. I MOVED THE JAR
IT WAS BEHIND AND BLOCKED THE
BACK, SO IT HAD TO GO FORWARD TO THE
EMPTY SINK, AND I GOT IT ON THE EDGE,
STUNNED IT, AND THEN SWEPT IT TO
THE FLOOR, WHERE I REALLY SWATTED IT.
Aunt Evelyn’s Letters
In this installment of Aunt Evelyn’s Letters, Barton Benes combines text from a 1977 letter his aunt sent about killing cockroaches with the image of an infected CD4 cell to comment on going—and staying—undetectable.
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