Treasure Island

Jan Sand

(February 2 1926 / USA)

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.
AI 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.'

Submitted: Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, September 10, 2013

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