the weekly poem.com

Insects

They make a lot of pointless noise,
They smell of soil and grime,
The energy that each employs
Is just a waste of time.

They buzz and crawl and fuss and sneak
And creep in nasty places:
They do not so much stink as reek,
And leave unpleasant traces.

You say that we would eat them if
We had some proper gumption?
I’d rather drop from any cliff
Than use them for consumption.

I’m happy with my current lunch;
Have you been on a drug?
I will not touch, don’t mention munch,
These humans. I’m a bug.

 


Click here to read an Independent article


Click here to buy Bill’s poetry collection Ringers

 

Insects

The UN has suggested food shortages and pollution could be reduced if we overcame “consumer disgust” and ate insects.


13 May 2013

POETRY KIT WEBRING

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