Short Thorax Poems

This morning, 
I woke,
eyes crescent mooned.

In the kitchen,
I found a platoon,
army crawling between 
pepperoni and assorted 
veggies, gathering intel
for the commanding officer.

My tweezers clinched 
between thorax and abdomen, 
strapped him down by the neck.
It took three milliliters 
from the syringe to
drown his insides.

His dog tags
read:
Red Aunt...

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Commenced
as a tiny
egg glued to foliage.
Maturing  bondage in a shell
awaits

Larva.
Eating, growing,
full size caterpillar
outgrows its present confines.
Splitting

 Again.
Reattaching
itself with liquid from
its spinneret . Creating a
button.

hanging
little pupa
dieting, motionless,
metamorphosing completely
anew
 
Cracking,
exposing  head
and thorax first. Followed
by legs and golden wings of a
Monarch....

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The chitinous mechanics
of head, thorax, and abdomen,
clicking exoskeletons,
the chirring of dry whispers.

We admire the purposeful
simplicity of the heedless.

Houses crumble as evidence.
Trees rot and give witness.
Caves crawl
with their evidential passing -
they command the locomotion and menu,
of the inevitable.

We who must be consumed,
know that as prey we are not too large,
and so, we lumber on as elephants will,
on their way
to long prepared graveyards.

...

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