I spy a ladybug
on top of my bathroom mirror.
every so often, a ladybug
invades my fortified apartment
I’m glad their not spies
far as I know
she’s eyeing me now
and I know what she’s thinking
“Um … is this some Caucasian, mountain god
tall and mountainous as he is?”
she sees me nick my cheek with my razor
and the tiny spot of blood that debuts
she thinks to herself
“though this strange species
towers over me mightily
it’s a lesser god than mine
because it bleeds”
after her disparaging assessment
she somehow, magically, walks down
the mirror like Jesus walking on water
and doesn’t fall off, as I or any living
human would, except maybe Jesus
I see she’s preening herself in the mirror
and liking her reflection a little too much
I never knew ladybugs were vain
I’d like to kick her out of my apartment
but it’s too cold outside
and despite the fact she’s an intruder
I don’t want her to freeze her ass off
that is if ladybugs have asses
so I just bid her farewell as I walk to my
computer and write this kinda ode to her
while she’s probably still obsessing over
her looks in my bathroom mirror
someday I must school her on the fact
looks fade and her personality is more
important than her fleeting looks.
maybe tomorrow, if she sticks around.
Bob Boyd