by Holly Day
the leaves catch fire and burst
into flaming insects pouring out from beneath
every smoking leaf and branch
some of them
clutch tiny parcels of white eggs
drag their children from the burning rubble
scream oh god oh god how
did this happen oh god and I
refuse to answer their prayers I flick
another match on the pile and watch as it snaps
immediately into more fire I casually stomp
on a schoolbus full of children old people
streaking from the bonfire as though this
will be their salvation swat at helicopters
bearing important insect politicians to safety
slap at intrepid explorers climbing my shoes my
pant leg as though trying to confront me face-to-face
I have no mercy for any of them I
do not want bugs in my kitchen and this
collection of anthills termite mounds
wasp nests is too close to my house
this is not allowed.