Understanding the poem

At Last We Killed The Roaches

Lucille Clifton (b.1936)

at last we killed the roaches.
mama and me. she sprayed,
i swept the ceiling and they fell
dying onto our shoulders, in our hair
covering us with red. the tribe was broken,
the cooking pots were ours again
and we were glad, such cleanliness was grace
when i was twelve. only for a few nights,
and then not much, my dreams were blood
my hands were blades and it was murder murder
all over the place.

This poem startled me because last week I had the same experience with my father. My house was invaded with roaches making all the family and visitors very uncomfortable. Just like Lucille Clifton  describes it in this poem we all felt like our pots,  plates, refrigerator, and bathrooms all belonged to the cockroaches.  Therefore, my father and I decided to exterminate all the roaches that had overspread our entire house. I can connect with her imagery of her experience killing cockroaches. Although it may seem funny, the things you do during the day stay in your head  and you can dream about all of them that night when you go to bed.  That same night, after killing the cockroaches I dreamt that enormous cockroaches were coming after me trying to eat me. When I woke up I laughed at my dream and felt a big relief knowing my house was immaculate. Despite the fact that roaches are unpleasent insects,  Lucille and I had a small feeling of guilt becauses they are creatures that also fight to stay alive.

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~ by jaryom on August 31, 2009.