I wrote this because we seem to be in a time where one simple action leads into crueler and crueler actions. I’m mainly thinking about politics, and about how a simple “joke” turns into more and more because the more we hear jokes, the more numb we become.
There are studies we all know about how children who kill other animals have a tendency to turn into much worse. Vast majority of the time, nothing happens; otherwise, we’d all be dead. Especially when it comes to bugs because we don’t see them as animals. Are you following the metaphor I’m trying to get after? Does the title make sense now?
A boy finds a bug on the ground
carefully easing it into his hand
amazed at how many little legs
the bug has, and at its hard shell
protecting the slimy guts that stain
his pants and his shirts and his hands
and his shoes and the sidewalk
after stomping and smushing them
senselessly, like all other boys do
and have done for generations,
and will do tomorrow, going
from bugs to who knows what.
If you’re looking to submit your own poetry, please see my submission guidelines for more details. I’m accepting submissions for the Winter Issue of Come and Go Literary, and I’m accepting submissions for guest posts. I accept all genres, but prioritize fiction.