Is 
        Sex the Answer?
        by Francine 
        DuBois  
        For R.
        I know your job is absurd.
          I get that. Yes, and lonely.
          Drifting from suburban house
          To slumlord hovel, ridding both
          Of the common scourge of pests.
          You tell me of walls that throb like
          A heart, beating with the pulse of roaches.
          With your fingertips, you kill the ant
          That's crawling on my arm as I write you a check.
          Is this what it's about? These moments
          Of bravado and stolen touches?
          These knightly rescues?
          Is it all running after spiders and mice
          While women shriek on chairs,
          Like the cartoons would have us believe?
          Or is it, as the brochure wants me to think,
          The scientific pursuit? The mixology?
          The war games? We talk ant psychology,
          Discuss the folk remedies I've tried
          Before surrendering to the expert,
          But I don't dare ask what motivates you
          To kill for me.
        Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's 
          Version
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