Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Poem from life

Insectuous Relationships

I have a no-kill policy
I help spiders outside
and the beautiful moths
if the cats don't get them first
Even flies--if they're near the door
I'll usher them out
So when I go
to the land of 10,000 mosquitoes
and yellow jackets
to the rural outdoors, in other words,
it's tough to keep
the same live and let live spirit
with this summer's bumper crop of biters
It's as if I have a target
on the back of my leg
or left shoulder blade
or my third knuckle
I don't mind giving a little blood
Other creatures need to eat too
It's the return gift of venom
that's so unpleasant
Add to that the high-pitched scream
of the hungry shes
On vacation, I averaged two
to three new bites a day
And home I came with swollen legs
and feet with red welts the sauce of saucers

And then there was the yellow fellow
who followed me into my room
after a walk down the road
riding in my hair
I heard the buzzing
Shook my head
He stung my neck
I brushed him off
He stung my hand
I killed him
in a fury of pain and surprise
It all took less than 10 seconds
from encounter to death

I didn't agonize over it
But it got me thinking
about pain and fury
and impulse when the weapon
is a gun and not a paperback
The provocateur is human
and not a yellow jacket


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