Bug Stump Dance
the bugs are back
and they ain’t fooling,
and with those jokers
she is dueling.
they’re bringing their daddys
and their mothers,
and their sisters
and their brothers.
they are marching
and they’re in order,
just like aliens
crossing the border.
they’re red and spotted
but they ain’t ladies,
but they would look good
in a mercedes.
they are social
and they are swingers,
sorta like a bunch
of left wingers.
they come by plane
and by bus,
they climb from the basement
up to the truss.
they’re in the kitchen
and in the hall,
and on the ceiling
and on the wall.
they’re on the floor
and in the cracks,
and she sweeps 'em up
by the sacks.
there’s piles of 'em
out in the yard,
been dowsed with gas
all smoking and charred.
she’s worn out her broom
and clogged her vac,
she runs ‘em off
and they come back.
but if hope has a place
she does have a chance,
maybe she can snuff ’em
with the bug stump dance.
(2014)
