by Lisa Lim
The cicadas have awakened,
After their 17-year-long hibernation.
Behold cicadas burrowing out of the ground.
Blaring loud car alarm sounds.
The cicada mating call frightening us all.
Georgia authorities begging citizens to stop dialing 911 on these bugs.
These cicadas aren’t thugs
It’s just the cicada and their trillion randy friends.
Shedding their peacock feathers loud and proud.
In surround sound with no end.
Like a Barry White soundtrack,
Putting cicada babes on the baby track.
What’s wrong with that?
Get a room one neighbor hollers.
Polyamory hot and bothered.
Cicada porn hub live streaming.
Pinch me, I’m dreaming.
These loud as lawn mower bugs just wanna fuck.
Almost a slap in the face to us living in a sexless pandemic that sucks.
Or maybe they come at a time where we need to drown out the sound of our own news.
The list of bad news keeps breeding on our social feeds.
But news of cicadas breeding and their 120-decibel love making dulls the sound of hate and sadness as of late.
And I welcome this deafening disruption of life these days.
My Instagram feed replaced with strange news of male cicada wings reverberating like reeds of a woodwind.
News of the fungus Massospora spores infecting cicadas eating away at their butts and dicks galore.
Butt munching whores!
Spreading the fungus like STDs.
Spores like hallucinogenic mushrooms for the sex thirsty.
News of musicians making music with cicadas.
If you can’t beat the join ‘em.
News of people with inventive protective wear.
Blasting lawnmowers deafening ears.
News of cicadas shedding their nymph skin.
Their exoskeleton too hard and small to live in.
News of chipmunks, sparrows, and snakes having a cicada feast.
Like a Chinese buffet all you can eat.
Yes I welcome cicadas like I welcome 90 day fiancé episodes.
Like an opium den.
These nonsense sounds drown out the sound of hate and sadness as of late.
Cicadas, some may label you a loud disturbance.
But I say much gratitude to your vociferous reemergence.
I bid you farewell.