Feeeeeeeen! Feeeeeeeeen! The nifty nuisance
Floats about my ears whispering loudly
As if to ask for permission to sink and steal
My silently speeding oxygen carriers from my veins.
It’s 32°C by my Jolla while the crickets chirp their love away
And some toads splash about their puddle trying to sing Vandross songs
(More like murdering them, but their ladies love it that way).
The still air hangs about my nose with scents from the nearby bush
While the bats are setting their gear for their nightly hunts.
I’m sitting here trying to write, but feeeeeeeeen
Those haughtily naughty fellows play their tune
And I roughly slap away to avert doom:
Who can imagine that these seemingly innocent notes
Have had malaria kill so many innocent souls?