It’s the stink

of something happening

that draws the flies.


When a friend breaks their leg

it’s a tragedy,

but also, a comedy—

because there’s a stupid story

to go along with it.


My favorite writer died when I was in kindergarten, and

to think,

it would be 25 years before I needed him

or could fully

understand him.

This might be true

of many passions.

Much is revealed

when it needs to be.


I was feeling bad today

and the principal said “hi” to me

He always wants to cheer me up

but when my spirit is as warm as the sun

he goes cold.

He says my name in private

and will never acknowledge me in public

He’s not human

He reminds me of a grasshopper

with disgusting brown juice

coming out of his mouth.


2 thoughts on “Aphorisms on Living with Insects

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