Came August <br />the Flea Commander <br />slapped his walking stick <br />upon the table bare <br /> <br />surveying his battle plan <br /> testing his jumping legs <br />assembled before him were <br />flea battalions on the ground <br />restless for the attack <br />mosquitoes and flies to buzz the air, <br />giant bedbug tanks from New York <br />gnats, moths, and crawlies eager for blood to suck <br />bat sentries, owl look-outs <br />coyotes to howl signals out <br />all was ready. <br /> <br />“Now, ” he began slowly <br /> <br />The family in there does not yet suspect <br />and we must not relinquish to them <br />our element of surprise. <br />We don't want them to get a chance to mobilize <br />until after we attack <br />and gain our cache of blood <br />surprise before they discover where our larvae lay <br />before they deploy their canisters of Raid <br />or insect repellents <br />before they open their bomb sprays <br />before their wash the beddings <br />before they deploy their expense flea sprays <br />and lethal flea droplets <br />we want to hide in their beds, dug in <br />we want to hide in their animals fur <br />in their clothing <br />everywhere <br />and before morning we will have established <br />our impenetrable beachhead. <br /> <br />So he said ready your selves for the strike this night <br />as they lay asleep. <br /> <br />With that he stood <br />his flea legs elevating him <br />above the others, shouting <br /> <br />Are you will me? <br />A roar went up <br /> <br />and I watching from my hiding place <br />crept away <br />saying to myself; <br />not this year you suckers <br />you’ll get your own surprise <br />glee in my voice. <br /> <br />To be continued.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-war-with-the-fleas/
