Ode to the Bed Bug
Famous freeloader with the sweet odor
of rotting coconuts. You’re always comped
more than a one-night stay at fancy hotels.
A high-class mattress or civilized box spring,
no guarantee against your exploding colonies.
You dodged supercleaners and pesticides,
returned from the early 1900s, bloodthirsty
for decades. Global traveler without tickets
or passport, you suck your body weight
in five minutes, leaving feces and red welts.
You prove that blood – blue, low income,
innocent -- tastes exactly the same. Acres
of sheets, clothes, luggage carry you and your
offspring like epidemic Sherpas. Indiscreet
member of the mile-high club. Your armies
of trillions invade every country, every class.