Man is no doubt a higher being
But I’m one who can’t get used to seeing
The results of my bug-
Their limbs so decently tucked in,
No malice in their form or face:
It eases my conscience that one decides
On a dish for his final resting place.
Clean china, white: in no way narrow
The spirit of this little hero
Who chose the funeral of a Pharaoh.
“Small Beowulf,” the dragon sighed,
“The honor is all with those who died.”
And though I’ll have to wash the plate
I don’t regret that you lie in state.
Copyright 2012 by Daniel Veach
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In Honor of Roaches