In Response to a New Orleans Palmetto Bug

by on August 27, 2019 :: 0 comments

I know who you are
because you’ve traveled,
haven’t you?
I’ve seen you when the lights go on,
midnight, three a.m.
waiting with those damn antennae twitching,
the bully in the hall approaching.
I’d rather have you,
you of the resounding crunch,
reminding me to always wear hard slippers
so I know I have a soul, can send you popping
in the wee hours, giant that you are.
The tiny one’s the one to fear,
he never comes alone,
apocalypse of Germany,
piles of zombie soldiers
swarm after the bombs fall.

editors note:

My, how the tiny are treated. But, how tiny are all, compared to the swarm? – mh clay

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