Thoughts before killing a pest

Whoever named you first
felt a loathing, for sure, 
but more, I think, a burst
of a wanton anger
Just as I feel now,
for you even fly
your brown shape about -
a sackful of shit
and other offal
and a pasty white
emulsion, and air-
daring gravity.

I know, o I do,
I have killed before
many of your kin;
they pervaded in

my childhood right up
until I spurned home.
But you sought me here.
Away and hidden
I battle-weary
soul in solitude
from the whole world hoped
for a tranquil breath
Oh! I will kill you!
You, if not a pest
would be a naught!
And because you are
a wearisome pest
I will twice kill you.
Once to kill just you
and next, all of you!