we are all beetles

Smoke, hint of cocoa,
Port wine,
Engulfed the beetle.
Persistent little beetle
Battling the drunkenness,
Battering the lantern.
Blow after blow against
The beetle.
Blow after blow against
The barricade.
Persistent little beetle,
Beating the sound
Out of the unsound light.
Slow before slow
Doing everything
In its mind right.
Futile.
At the wrong light.

 

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7 Comments

  1. Funny enough, I had a visit from a Gold Tortoise Beetle the other day. I thought it had died (by being squashed by a human) but alas this little creature managed to endure the weight and brutality of man. He even found the time to play hide and seek with me after. Lesson: yes, we are all beetles… we’re just as bad-ass about survival as they are.

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  2. It’s cool that you write a poem that makes the reader root for a beetle, usually not the most endearing of critters. My favorite lines: “Persistent little beetle,/ Beating the sound/ Out of the unsound light,” which use rhythm, repetition of “sound/unsound” and the mystery of a metaphor which makes sense in its translucent way.

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