Inside my skull’s a fizzing insectarium
of mystic, magic, merry little things
so wildly pretty that my brain can’t carry ’em
without the power of all their tiny wings,
Abuzz with sparkling brilliance and their fleeting,
so speedy that they’ve utterly forgot
regard for gravity or need for beating,
become instead bright vestiges of thought.
Now, you may think I’m just a bugged-out entity
with not a thought for anything of sense,
but every person has his own bugs, hasn’t he,
and with their glittering gleam, the joy’s immense;
I never really cared that much for images
or what all others thought my problem was,
but just embraced my inner insects’ scrimmages,
I find an inner insect a welcome change from an inner child. Shades of Kafka.
Gregor Samsa (if I’m remembering the name right–guess that proves I’m overdue for a re-read) had nothing on me!
I love the way you buzz, too, Kathryn, and your poem was delightful, once again, my friend! ♥
So glad no one’s stopped by to tell me to Buzz Off! 😀