18 July, 2006

Attempting Insecticide

...waiting for the thunder/ Standing in the rain/ I've been itching all over/ I don't know know know which way is which....

I sit sweltering on my front porch, pirating the neighbor's wireless, using my own flesh as bait.

I battle vicious insects, their evil black bodies jaggedly striped with white, like low-slung sportsters. In the moments between pageloads, I scan my skin, slap away the itch with a satisfied,

"Gotcha, motherfucker,"

and flick the crushed corpse to the concrete at my feet, willing the scent of mosquito carnage to warn the swarm away.

Every one I kill signifies several million that will never be born.

When I return to the house, it will be as victor, streaked with the warpaint remnants of the bodies of my tiny enemies, redolent with sweat and blood.

A citronella candle might be more effective.

But where's the joy in that?

(The Itch; KIX)


Totsie said...

Preachin' to the choir my friend. :)

Paul said...

If you're going to channel Samuel L. Jackson, you need to do it right.

"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee!"

Or maybe:

"I've had it with these mothafuckin' mosquitoes on this mothafuckin' porch!"