Mosquito
As early evening’s open doors
and warm May air usher in
a roving hypodermic,
I spot him, gnawing my
left third finger
near the second joint,
wide with blood,
brown striped, bird-like,
he feeds, and flees too quick,
so with an angry clap
I mash him midair
and spot my palms with red.
(5/12/2014)
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