PEST CHEST

Innocent creature, little fly,
never wishing for folk to die,
commits no crime we could write of
just spreads largesse like any Toff.
 
From steamy trash to church at mass
from nose of horse to arse of ass,
from breakfast table to bedroom
never wishing to be bringing doom.
 
Wind chased wrappings filled with food
chewing gum to pavement glued,
from trash filled bin with loosened lid
delights its eye but from us is hid.
 
Innocent creature, little fly,
never wishing for folk to die,
busily searching for dinning places
in restaurant or shiny faces.

It's true we've past the grief around  
and down the years as well,  
from the first two put underground  
a never ending swell.  
   
There is no myth or mystery  
nor any favourites,  
for, throughout our history,  
we are groomed out just like nits.  
   
It seems to me we are viewed as lice  
infesting a planet,  
but for all to be groomed out, now, that ain't nice,  
I'm on the list! Damn it...  
   
I can hear the nit-nurse curse  
bustling round with her comb,  
no grim-reaper just mother earth  
cleaning up at home...

I climbed on the Hollywood sign
and swung from a vine
stripped on the sunset and
drank some box wine
It’s fine
I wasn’t meant to live long
cock strong King Kong acting like a
ding dong

Just like a fly
I’m always landing on shit
I must admit though, I give as
good as I get
Please quit
buzzing like a mosquito
I’m strong as a flea bench pressing
a Frito

Sub zero
I was never your hero
Stone cold motherfucker like
Bobby De Niro
get me a beer yo! before I
spit in your face, just like the roaches,
no fear of catching a case

Dismissed
that’s right now I’m pissed
You left me praying like a mantis
that has never been kissed
I insist
we get drunk off our asses
and do something stupid like
burning ants with our glasses

My brain
thinks outside the box
a head filled with rocks
straight thug to my socks
It’s cool though
a spider slid down from my ear
and built a web on my elbow

Goes to show
it’s pretty simple to see
not a lot of shit out there
ever really bugs me
so I’m free,
a silverfish in a sink drain
fucked up, high on Raid and
feeling no pain

Flies annoy and Bzz Bzz Bzz around,
as long as there's garbage they'll always be found
One year as a kid I killed two flies
Placed them in my brother's burger,
devoured, with some shoe string fries
 
I recall a kid who lived a few blocks away
The family was dirt-poor,
his home needed to be sprayed
Every time I saw him he was insanely scratching his head
His hair was greasy and wild,
fingertips looked bloody red
I later found out that he was carrying lice
Filthy family they were,
house was inundated with mice
I was checked to make sure I didn't have those buggers
Parents wanted me to stay away,
saw him years later wearing tight ass nut-huggers
 
I heard fleas are quite resilient & strong
Luckily I had no encounter with them,
I would watch cartoons all daylong
Tex Avery's Flea Circus from 1958
I felt bad for the little flea clown,
he wanted Fifi to become his mate
 
Roaches are downright gross
Watch them scurry around,
they love the taste of fructose
Nasty motherfuckers will survive forever
Long after humans are extinct,
I'll be long gone, so whatever
 
Mosquito's suck and create a bite
Itchy skin for days,
morning, noon & night
Each year their always in the media
What new virus are they carrying,
baloney, just like Wikipedia
 
As this poem comes to a close
Be aware what's under your nose
All these bugs are fucking pests
This was written for the Pest Chest contest
 
 

Breaking barriers barricading blessings!
Oh beware of the biologic binges
of our bitter bombs born of today!

A wild child smiled while riled.
Anger piled with face mild.
Exiled and reviled yet he smiled!

Beneath your light, he will write.
His thoughts alight, he will smite the night.
Within your white light,

need not be affright,
everything's all right.
The insight is now in sight!

I ain't got no lucci
to afford Gucci.
So I'll buy Coach.
Little did I know a roach
stowed away in my travel
to unravel
this world as my oyster.
When did the roach hoist their
body into my brand-new bag?
I feel like the old hag
with eight cats, except I have creepy crawlers.
I sure ain't living the life of a baller.

Anyhow, after a long day of shopping
I'm hopping
on the bus to get to my house.
I need to change my blouse
and get ready to give my dog a bath.
Honestly, I'm not ready for the wrath
of fleas that are about to parachute
commando-style off my dog's butt.
I have this gut
feeling that I will be itching as they dance
on my skin looking for romance.

Finally, I can sit with my family
around the firepit with the shade from the trees.
Just when I think it's a moment of peace,
a barrage of mosquitoes release
their plan of attack on us unsuspecting people.
My cousin's behind the peephole,
laughing at me because the mosquitoes are biting,
and I'm making karate sounds as I'm kung-fu fighting.
These annoying little pests
have destroyed my time of rest.

With the repellent on full-blast
I can at last
retire from my martial arts career,
but of course, we're not in the clear.
Here comes Mr. Buzzy Fly
who's gonna try
to land on my sandwich.
We make eye contact, and I say, "bitch
I wish you would; I'll get you good."
To which Mr. Buzzy Fly said, "Test me, I'm hood."
It pulls out a gun and holds my meal at ransom.
I put my hands up and even hand it some
freshly squeezed lemonade.
At least I'm sitting in the shade.

I scratch my head in wonder
how do I get my pest issue under
some kind of control?
This madness is taking its toll.
Anyway, why is my scalp unusually itchy?
Not to be bitchy
I silently scratch.
Something's latched
on to my scalp and is setting up camp.
Stop the reproduction; stay away from that tramp.
I can tell she's got some sexy legs.
How many skanks have hatched their eggs?
How many have molted?
How many have bolted
to a brand-new host?
Today has been horrible, to the utmost.