Nature Calls

June bugs spin,
inverted,
on the cool, damp garage floor
at half past midnight

thoughts of gangrene catch in my throat —
tube-socks filled with lime Jello shots
tempt me from the task at hand —
a testosterone-crazed Min-Pin

leaping and lunging
desperate to savor the beetle-crunch
in its powerful jaws
when all I wanted him to do

was go potty.

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