The Bedbug

RRBedbug (46K)


"Goodnight, sweet child. Slumber well and keep tight. Take care not to let the bedbugs bite!"

Bedbugs !...bedbugs...little black crawly, sharp clawed beetles that bite and sting and cling to the eyelids as they work their way into the brain to lay their white, slimey larvae that hatch and cause your head to throb with pain as they feed off your brain and work their way down through your innards until they pop out of your rectum dragging an intestine or kidney or two...bedbugs...bedbugs...vicious little bedbugs!

Bedbugs ! They inject you with their poisonous venom so you might witness their neat, little handiwork as you lay paralyzed and watch them munch through your skin--in and out and in and out--like an old maid seamstress sews her quilt, with patience and detail

Bedbugs ! Thousands of bedbugs that make their home just beneath the surface of your itchy skin, tunneling through your bones, feasting on your marrow,madly,like diabetic children in an unsecured candy store ! From the tips of your fingers to flesh between your toes,plucking the hairs in your ears eyelids,and nose! Underneath your tongue, in every swallow of spit, the food in your teeth ! the blood in your gums ! even the corn in your shit !
Burrowing in your ass like a coal-miner in search of black gold, stripping away until white bone pokes through... Crawling behind your eyes, deep in the ear's channel, through the center of your brain, moving through your veins, inside , outside,upside down,they remain; through your intestines, around and around, make no mistake , they're in your skull,oh ! that burning ache, not a hangover, but the bedbugs firey venom , like the smell of purple clover at the entrance of Death's Door.
To small to see, to fast to kill in the night, but they wait patiently until you fall asleep to do their dirty work. You must sleep sometime.
They invade your dreams turning them into nightmares and finally into mad reality as your itch turns to discomfort and your fear turns to panic, and you twist and jolt out of your deep fitful slumber to a paralyzed wake and watch in disbelief and horror their slow, methodical, deconstruction of your body, already a work-in-progress.No dose of medicine , no magic sleeping pill, no safeguards, no weapons, no one is saved,all flesh is a feast at midnight for bedbugs--parasites that are the Devil's antidote for sweet dreams !
Throughout the centuries, mysterious death tales have lingered. In lore and folk, to bring a chance to explain where some have gone without a clue,
tales are regaled, and most are untrue. But as God has a plan,
the Devil must also have his due.
Behold, the!terrifying ! Bedbug !


What is the peaceful leech, but a blood-sucking worm, to leave you alone after it's had its turn And turn to another host, it can be removed at will, the turning of the worm is legendary, I presume... And plagues of frogs and snakes and bats, biblical tales all.It's true some tales may keep you awake at night,tossing or seeing shapes on the wall
While spiders, scorpions, black flies, and more
sustain a mythic allure, of all things hideous and foul and bane
it is the work of the silent bedbug
Fastidious and complete, devouring its game:
Guts, blood, bone and gore
Until there is- no more!
Ashes to ashes and bone to dust, it distinguishes none, though the young seem tender and, willing to trust
the meandering, tiny creature that tickles at first, until the prick of the skin, by it's razor talon forces a piercing cry from baby
But to young it is to explain to Mother, the sharp pain it has just endured, and soon the soothing, melodic voice of an ignorant parent, thinking baby had a bit of a bad dream,
lulls baby back into the arms of Morpheus once more. (How proud the parent is to take one last loving, look at God's precious miracle !)
Once baby arrives in Nirvana, the bedbug begins it's lustful, and lyrical, non-stop consumption of baby's flesh, making sure to muffle any furtive cries by choking it's prey, at best-- in numerical force,of course
thousands crowding baby's narrow throat with a little nip and tuck on the vocal cords, baby sounds never more
suffocating as though an act of mercy towards this innocence (but only a bedbug does not reason, it merely makes the task less effortless, not pleasing), until baby turn's blue,-- and then the work of the measly bedbug begins. !
With absolute, surgical percision, knowing that time is of the essence, until the dawn's early light, the bedbug moves as one, vast army upon it's quarry, to pillage and loot this goldmine of young, tender, buttery flesh !
Moving in unison;
each vermin with an essential part;
understanding that the good of the team depends upon the best of the one:
they toil. Like a chain-gang pounding rock ,the bedbug works quickly, with determined consequence--
with the bellicose laugh from His Dark Majesty,and as the damned chant from the depths of Hell, their movement gives them almost,a rhythmic step, in this macarbe "crib-death" opera no one shall tell!
(The Physician's and Minister's, Constables ,learned men and more, approach the Mother with care --
to console her and find a way , to explain these type's of things happen everyday ! But , they concede,there's no reason why baby disappears this way!)


So sing a sweet medley for baby's good rock-a-bye night...
kiss her and wish her to sleep tight
wrap her in blankets and cover her just right
as she rocks herself to sleep until the morning light
because at the dawn
baby's blankets are wrapped around dust
as those vicious, black beetles make their nightly call
upon children so small.The Devil shall get his due.
Baby's all gone...

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