This poem was originally published on 12 October 2018.

A bug, for a hug,
Went floating so low,
To find itself stumbling,
In a thicket deemed hollow.

This firebug, tired,
Heart tumbling for light,
Was leaden with reason,
Both wrong and right.

Oh! Litterbug, bitter,
Stood spluttering its thoughts,
As they turned to dew,
And rinsed out the moss.

Jitterbug, for a glitterbug,
Went a-wanting a dance,
But poorbug had no knees
To feel weak in.
So it kept up its seekin’
With wings that were creakin’
For the sake of some notion of trance.

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