Bugs, Us: Seven Limericks
Odiferous ants are intense.
Through our kitchen they’ve followed the scents.
Their queen gave them orders,
“March! Infiltrate borders;
your victory’s my eminence!”
The carpenter bees are fat wrecks
who survey the gray, rotting decks.
They wobble and hover.
In time, they discover
their holes were designed to their specs!
That slothful slug slimes a wet trail
that glistens behind his fat tail.
We don’t want him here,
but he comes every year
for a comparable lazy female.
That Japanese beetle’s confused.
In his flight he's been sorely abused.
His trajectory’s off!
No dazed volitation’s excused.
That pill bug curls up, head behind,
distressed that our children will find
she’s not so malicious.
Of them, she’s suspicious.
She’s so phagophobic, supine.
A tiny brown spider is resting
on webs that never need testing,
She catches bad bugs,
those plant-bullies, thugs
who’ll soon be what she’s digesting.
The honey bee jounces a petal.
Unsuccessful at first, he won’t settle
for work that’s not done.
So landing on one
he reveals pollinigerous mettle.