Bug Blues



I happened on an arthropod,

A jointed legged fellow,

Who sang a tragic little song

Which ranged from shriek to bellow.

It glared at me with facet eyes.

It gnashed its sideways jaws.

More threatening, I’d say,

Than many mother-in -laws.

“I had a lovely love,” it sang,

“Six legs of sculptured form

Would make Brancusi grit his teeth

Or drown in chloroform.

Her thorax glittered like a gem,

Dark green with streaks of yellow.

Emotions went all loop-de-loop

In me, a simple fellow.

Behind, her convex abdomen

Promised me for eggs.

Ten thousand babies, could she make

With sixty thousand legs.

Four transparent wings she had

For flights profound, profane.

They glowed with spectral iridescence –

Enchanted cellophane!

But then an evil bee flew by

And saw her as a morsel.

It flexed its pincers as it swooped

And grappled her by her dorsal.

Off it flew! I stood transfixed.

My love it stole away.

I swore revenge on all its tribe.

They will regret that day.

So now,” he sang, “I stalk the land

Through grasses and through trees.

I am the great bee bopper

Because I bop the bees.”

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