Sympathy For The Thunderbug

Written by: Samuel St. Clair

There is no sympathy
for the thunderbug
during the summer itch;

framed in salty scenes of
historic naval victories
slapped and thrashed
by palmy waves 
of arrogant hands

you are hated by 
the young and old,
and your very existence
annoys most,
you are small and pointless
just like us, and perhaps
that is it

dear thunderbug,
death chases you 
through the darkened corridors
of children’s thumbs

and I know how dark it can get,
but there is light for you yet

sweet thunderbug,
you are safe
on the side of my 
sour, sour neck.