Sunday, October 3, 2010

In Which I Cheerlead Some Last Minute Procreation

Boxelder bugs, you must be frantic to
Begin another generation, for
Quite suddenly, I'm seeing more of you
Than I can count, in my front yard. The score
Is like this: winter's coming. Time, it runs
Out swiftly for you, little ones; a freeze
Could happen any day now, so the ones
Most near to you will have to do. Now please
Get on with it. It would not be the same
Without you when the summer's back, my friends.
As things go now, you're pushing it; your claim
To make a legacy runs thin, soon ends.
If I don't see you busy making eggs
I guess I'm gonna have to tear some legs.

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