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The Bug Zapper

March 25, 2009

In the warmest nights
we attended the crack and fizzle
of the oblong blue light,
hung from the house’s furthest eaves.

The serenade of death
came unbidden, blending
with cicada songs, the dog’s tail
thumping on the gray grosgrain floors.

The ebbing ember of daddy’s cigarette
was as ill an omen as the pale blue light.
The carcasses piling between the mesh,
curled flakes of ash in a copper dish.

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