Monday, July 12, 2010


by crackpipe

Cockchafer beetle, your name is unfortunate for Sunday school. You're supposed to be here and gone by June, "May Bug". You never bite or sting; it's anyone's guess why you were once nearly extinct. And you arrived on the screen door this evening, buzzing and parading resplendent antennae, looking like a million bucks. Your presence, merely buzzing and peering-in for a half hour, relieved all the tedium of my Math homework. You left me happy.

On the other hand, your name suggests you are a g*d damned cockchafer. Your name seems to point to impossible, horrifying events insofar as beetles are concerned. Things that seem possible for beetles only in the context of a torture chamber or maybe a Turkish prison. I will simply wish you the best, and hope that I fail to learn how you were named.

But on yet another hand, perhaps I'm up to three hands by now, the apparent irony of your existence as a harmless, somewhat clumsy vegetarian, looking for a tree, but possessing a name that causes most to recoil, is not entirely wasted upon me. So roll on chafer, you're an interesting contradiction. And be safe out there.

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