20150802 (insects)

Bugs and I don't get on. Don't look for a peace treaty any time soon.

Was I subconsciously reenacting sept d'un coup

When five minutes ago I thought to whack 

The flies at a rear bedroom window

Hustled to get my flyswatter

Make an early end to their filthy lives

They were so calm not flitting about

As if their tiny legs had glued to

The glass the paint on the muntins

Were they at their natural end anyway

Letting the late afternoon sun warm them

As they breathed their last to lose

Their insectivorous grip

Fall away to the sill no open windows

In that room perhaps their little dead bodies

I’d wrongly guess to be turds

Query if the cat with all her recent outdoor

Adventures was falling down on the job

After a minute of flailing 

I had dispatched that crowd

Hardly seven with one blow

More like seven strokes 

For each of the six-legged folks

When finally too late to have pity

Ghandi came to mind

I could have more easily opened

The window let them flee

No there was something quite 

Murderous about my mood which

I attribute to brothers of the flies

Or sisters in today’s PC parlance

Who had the temerity to sample 

Various hard-to-reach portions 

Of my flesh several on my back

Where neither hand can curl to scratch

Others in places you could scrape

Only in the shower

If you remember last year the wasps

Fled their railroad tie home

When my lawnmower inadvertently

Note how I’m not taking any of the blame

Struck their quarters maybe jarring

Them loose from their perches

During supper or love-making

I always hated that when you’re

Diligently endeavored and an earthquake

Tilts the bed at just the wrong time

Then that line from Hemingway 

Invariably crops up I won’t say it here

But you’re done for the night

Conditioned to expect a child at the door

A window blown open another tremor

To undo the mood do you hear

Water running in the bathroom

Well the damn wasps attacked me and 

There wasn’t enough over-the-counter

Benadryl to balm those welts

I swelled up like a car tire at a pump 

I should have posed as an after pic for 

Get thighs like these one simple exercise

Except the bloody scabs would give it away

So I killed the flies don’t feel bad about it

Aren’t they frog and bird food

When I stuck them on pins

My biology teacher 

Gave me an A

c. J.S.Manista, 2015