249 and 250

There only ever was one demigod.

The heresy was that there might be more.

How odd it is, how very, very odd,

that life as such was ever such a bore.

We have enough to worship as it stands.

Enough to find and know the awe we seek.

Whoever thought we needed contrabands

of godhood when we know we are too weak?

It might have been the want for something fun,

or maybe some untimely lingual twist.

But something tells me that we tried to run

from something that our lack of faith has missed.

One demigod is plenty for us all.

Mistake not wont for worship for a call.

~~~

I miss my run-ins with the desert roach.

The ones I used to have when just a boy.

I miss the way they mindlessly encroached

upon our home, to canker and annoy.

I realize how odd that is to say.

I just wasn’t that scared of them, you see.

I saw them when I went outside to play,

I saw them everywhere that I would be.

These were the jesters of my youthly court.

Such silly fools who’d fall onto their backs.

They were not grim or gross by my report,

but tied to home in ways my new home lacks.

Is it conceivable to miss a pest?

If so, the roach has made me miss it best.