PREHUMAN BUG GUY TO LIFE
as translated from Ro’do Bo’
(from an unknown poet)
My lower calves are books of bug bites
I read them and read them with transparent annoyance
penance I think for the day when an angry goddess
poured a pail of soapy water and detergent into a hornets' nest
and destroyed their civilisation just like ours very soon
when we'll sting unknowingly the eyelid of beautiful Terra
with the teensy tear in her asphalt skirt
Chiggers are terrific! They terror into your skin
tiny red flecks of tongue left from your last sexy
and you are multitudinous like a diseased lolly pop
Yes, the giant spider outside of my winder is
she's big as a wallop from a sock of coins
how I pay for staple foods like sack of bread
they call my spider a writing spider because
she doesn't write anything all day and fat
her butt is always up genitals breezing in the air
so she must be a poet I pulled down my tight pants
showed her my bumble bee and she threatened to dance
like a trampoline except her husband is a tiny cuck down
We're slobbering over his desire to be beaten by big big
chiggers have no hierarchy and no despots they do not
watch the text of your leg change into a love story
there are no love stories anymore because everyone
is afraid insects carry disease and no one wants to itch
But itching is terrific! It means sex! It's smiling at me!
