The Moth

Hello! It’s me.


Leafy greens

Hold no power over me.


Only the feathery antennae

of a delicate moth

trying to flee

holds power over me.


Please come down.

Allow me to crush your menacing thorax

On our artificial lawn.


I promise to be brief, because

Your abdomen will be locked like a vice

Between my teeth.


I’ll remove the dust from your wing.

It might sting.

Limiting your ability to fly away.


Come down and play.



You refuse?

Then go to the light

And I’ll give up this fight.

I’ll wait

For the date

When this becomes your fate.



5 thoughts on “The Moth

  1. Yo Dash,

    Poetry eh? How about this missive.

    There once was a hunter named Dash
    who sought out prey he could bash

    One day it’s bunnies, next day a moth
    what will I do if either gets caught

    Chomp on their thorax or even it’s trachea
    that’ll teach ’em if in my yard, I’ll breakie ya

    So beware all ye pests who threaten my domain
    a proficient hunting badger dog I shall remain

    Goodbye for now, we’ll soon meet again
    find me more miscreants, of that I’m a beggin’

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Sheesh! Now you are a poet. I think it was the leafy greens that depressed you so–I know you wold rather have had the sandwich. Auntie Janet


  3. Yikes! That Arizona sun must have some scary effect on the canine cranium. A little Stephen King poetry brought on by the “green leafy mile”. I suggest more carbs.



  4. There once was a pup,
    Who did most like to sup,
    On a repast of stringy white cheese.

    When fed leaves at a meal,
    He said, “What’s the deal?!”

    “I would rather eat moths you guys, Geez!”


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