in my lab
an appropriated potting shed
my insect collection in rows
beneath the fluorescent lamps
one central fresh acquisition
legs splayed and belly exposed
sketch pad opened to a clean page
pencils sharpened, anticipating
the specimen's fine inner plumbing
gem surgical carbon steel blades
wrapped in a bit of cardboard
five cents apiece

outside, the insects' droning calls
a summer soup breeze tickles the trees
and slowly a ticking, a gait picks up
of an infinite millipede
its waterpad feet everywhere
as the earth spills into the air
(so many invisible occurrences)
everything darkens slowly
kra-koom baroom baroom
and everything is gray and noise
a steady loud wet static hush
everything lightens slowly
and the dance is done
a few footfalls as fairies
stagger home from the orgy

the most brave cicada
or perhaps only the most eager
cuts open the silence

Shuffle, replace, or draw a card.

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