When Gregor Samsa woke from dream one day
Strange feelings soon assailed within his ken—
Where roaches once on walls had sought to play
Were tiny, writhing, melancholy men.
On Greg’s long suffering shoulders once again
His parents’ loud laments for help did pour.
Till sales craft scheming brought solution, when
He thought to hawk his minis door to door.
Greg quit his job and told his boss, “No more!”
Then kicked his deadbeat family to the streets
To sell his morphed roach doubles by the score.
He’s married now, his belly full of sweets.
Life’s Fates spun Gregor’s yarn out thick and strong;
It seems they read the requisition wrong.