June 19, 2008
By Joseph Yagoda, New Hyde Park, NY

I still feel you breathing under my skin
You know just how to leave me desperate
Like when locusts stormed the fields
And my crop was left to whither
But, I can’t think of you as a pest
For pests are practical creatures
Lingering just long enough to eat
And flying away to maintain their sanity

With every breath I take
Your pests do a jig in my throat
And with every cough I’m reminded
That we once were acquainted

Yet I predict that your fall is coming
Stools of principle are built on weak
Bases and even weaker minds
Like locusts, I’ll be left with less than before
And like locusts, it’s something you won’t realize

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