The Landlord

The landlord was tall, well-fed, his glasses quite small

And he didn't have much to say at all

He inspected our home and sealed all open cracks

While his wife nagged him about his bad back

With his trusty flashlight he looked for signs

Of a roach infestation, that had become our demise

He peered under couches while his wife rambled on

About the lack of roach evidence, and how our claims were wrong

She called him dramatic for his due diligence

The roaches couldn't possibly exist, it's just common sense

Because she could not see them during the day

"But cockroaches are nocturnal!" we started to say

She rambled, words scrambled, puny flashlight shining

"There's simply nothing here girls, what a strange thing!

No feces, no carcasses, this place is so clean

My husband did such a great job with tidying your dwelling!"

She smiled at us with pity, as if our anger should be muted

"You girls seem to have a bug phobia. You know, the ocean is therapeutic"

The lady laughed to her husband and grinned ear to ear

And told us it was funny that we haven't been sleeping here

We found the definition of a roach infestation

"If seen during the night, especially babies, it's a clear indication..."

She stopped us mid-sentence, smiling eyes ignited with rage

"Pest control websites WILL NOT be trusted; they just want to get paid"

She shuffled out of our home as I asked how she'd feel

If roaches entered her dwelling; she did not seem appealed

With that same enraged smile she turned to us and said

"This plant has to be moved, girls." And with that she left

Begrudgingly yet graciously, they found us an exterminator

One week, three phone calls, and a few snarky emails later

The landlord came with him, fear deep in his eyes

"I have a raging cockroach phobia, girls, please don't tell my wife"