The Heat Bug

Heat bug waits so patiently,

He wiry peds voraciously, 

Lies on his back, deck steaming, wet 

His carcass, red lamps face, and shed.

Says:

Tick Ticky Ticky Ticky!,

Tick Ticky Ticky Ticky!

Tick Ticky Ticky Ticky

Ticky Ticky Ticky Tick! 

(Studiously approaching), with cautious

Stooped-step creaking, croaching,

Till, sensing it was quite enough,

He flies directly: (almost touching)

Solzhenitsyn! Solzhenitsyn!,

Shouted out, for no good reason:

Thrown tossed dispelled, dissolved repelled:

Broadcast in all direction,

For we did not know what heat bugs were, 

(And who was Solzhenitsyn?).

Back every each new age, or so

(Someone keeps track of these things, you know.).

Seven stretchy years for child to grow,

Inside the earth, they sleep below, Then:

Drawn by draw to ugly things, 

One again, we formed a ring 

Till Heat Bug thinks, : ”That’s close enough”, 

Flips right side up, with buzz dust wings,


Sholtzsinetsin!, Sholtzsinetsin!, We all scream!,  

Dissolve in four directions, like the wind.

NineTal Naccarato