Mosquitoes
For my skin - hidden blood
Abandons neighbouring feeding forest
Dumping the nearby, friendly gutter
After a heavy washing flood
Hijacks long sleep and short rest
Forcing us to malevolent curses utter
With all manner of men getting into trouble
Who attack it with strength, a bubble;
Not infrequently phoning their nurses
And for insecticides, unzipping their purses.
Spared not also by The Saints,
Though its killing their images taints;
On it hipping a hurt's abuse,
All the time emptying the refuse.
Simply the handiwork of pin - sharp proboscis
Justifying uttered obscenities or Holy Moses!
In the late nights
A scheduling of sure flights,
With its sleep - verifying song
That does us a great wrong.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
