On Being Confined Indoors
What are you, oh most fearsome bug
that haunts my balcony?
You've terrorized my fearless cats
and scared the pants off me.
The noise produced by your hind legs
fills up the Southern sky.
Perhaps it's just your mating call
but I'm prepared to die.
Your wingspan rivals aer-o-planes -
you drone most dreadfully.
I've seen young field mice carried off
by smaller things than thee.
You've got to be four inches wide
and two more inches high.
I've never seen your kind before -
you'd make St Gratus cry.
Those pinchers that you wave around -
were those supposed to be -
or were they just gratuitous
when Satan set you free?
I've always felt that bugs had rights -
I wouldnt hurt a fly.
But then again I've never had
one stare me in the eye.
I'd catch you in a pickle jar -
I'd risk the devil's wrath
would "suicide by insect bite"
not be my epitaph.
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