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THE JEWEL WASP AND HER COCKROACH

Once I watched an emerald,
quaint oriental solitaire,
rococo mother-to-be,
stab a dirt-scuttler.

Saw her poison the eyesore,
jostle him to a crevice,
stable him with her yellow egg,
in nodding braindeath.

I saw her child hatch and grow
as its quivering larder
died to a shell
packed with wasp-shit.

At last I saw an emergent emerald,
young oriental solitaire,
speckless virgin,
expand its wings,and fly in praise
of its creator,
its providence,
its light of the world.

      — Ted Burford