you bugs.
you offensive, detestable things!
you repulsive
crop of aliens
that lurk in the
dark corners of
my cozy home.
your greasy black
shell slithers
atop numerous
spindly legs...
that I would like to rip off.
your eyes, worse yet,
are there two, six, or four,
that gleam at me,
plotting?
you vinyly crunchy
sado-masochism bondagey things.
goo.
yeah, I'm talking to you.
I watch you rub those legarms
together
in anticipation of our show down.
but we both know
that you will win.
you will sneakily slink
towards me on those
thorny legs, calculating.
and I will jerk backwards and jump
atop the nearest chair
until you take your
wriggling antenna
and skedaddle.
and yet, you...
you bugs...
are another
of God's diverse
(I still say ugly)
creatures.
I'll watch your
twitchy conspiring
from across the room
but I still can't bring myself to squash you.
