“I am a cage, in search of a bird.” Franz Kafka from The Blue Octavo Notebooks
“What’s wrong, dear Pa, today?”
said Connor Cockroach, in dismay
and gently licked his pincers
looking more like kitchen mincers.
“Why have you changed my son?”
said father, holding tightly his gun.
“… I’ll feed you if you stay inside”
and Connor knew he would abide.
They fed him rats, they fed him mice
and Connor found the rodents nice.
He grew fat, he grew lazy — slept;
He never laughed but sometimes wept.
Connor learned to climb on walls
he needed space, not rooms but halls;
So an early morning Connor left
and left his mother quite bereft.
She sobbed a little bit (for show),
relieved she sighed “My son has grown,
— I hope he’ll find what bugs him”.
But Connor’s fate was dark and grim.
Crushed beneath a lorry’s wheel,
when searching for a morning meal,
but on his headstone it was said:
“He ate and slept, but now he’s dead”
A children’s poem inspired by Kafka for Amaya’s prompt at dVerse. Not quite like Gregor Samsa…
September 24, 2019