Insect

Today
I killed
A cockroach.
A subject we are loathe
To broach:
Is God the sidewalk
Or the shoe?

Is faith in an unseen future
The glue
That binds the suture
Tight,
That joins all things
In futile fight
For survival?

The image, primal,
Of the crushed insect -
I shall remember but soon forget.
We kill the small and worthless
Without regret.