silverfish

“SILVERFISH!” my father would
holler and my mother would come
running with the special can
of spray.

my father was always finding
silverfish.
it seemed to go on for days
and years on
end:
“SILVERFISH!”

I saw a silverfish
now and then
but I never said
anything.

mostly they liked to hang
around the bathtub
or dark wet
places.

they hardly seemed a
threat
to me.

but the hysterical excitement
upon finding a
silverfish
never
abated.

well, it did after my
mother’s death
because my father had nobody
to holler it to.

then my father died.
and in his casket he looked
just like
you know
a big one.

but I didn’t holler
anything.

and after it was over
I had a hamburger with french
fries and an Eastside
beer.