September 29, 2012

The mosquito is useless
As he grows fat to grow fatter
So his children can do the same
And there isn’t anything he can say
To excuse himself, with that strange
Stinging probiscis of his

His only redemption is found in the colder months;
In those days he can, at least,
Not be bothered to come around.

He sins again though,
come springtime.

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