My newfound love of my life said she
had something called Entomophobia.
I had no idea what that humongously
large word meant nor its implications.
She said it was a dread of insects.
I said I could understand that because
creepy crawly spiders creeped me out.
When she moved into my apartment to
make it a love nest, all was love and bliss
until a single cockroach crept under the
front door of my apartment, and my love
began sweating and freaking out as if
the end of the world was happening.
She shrieked like a woman on fire, packed
her suitcases, said we were done, and
flew out my life, gone forever.
And as I never saw a single cockroach
in my apartment before, I swear that little
demon was a buzzkill cockroach from hell.
Bob Boyd