Me, A Roach

This station I spent 3 hours online trying to find and here I am, a memory trumping a map the one I haven’t touched since summer we house sat for your brother My first sight of roaches flat, credit cards breaking into our kitchen cameras, witnesses to our brittle laughter we took a hammer to it chords made from the same instrument now struck hungrily but to a lesser effect. I walk for hours, a marble in a pinball, machines whirring around me, hair blown up, foreign antenna they lead me to the drone of bees and find it here, the air conditioner still a window shade. The dust refuses to settle, those dishes still in the sink lines of poison traced by tabular feet.