I ate a bug this morning, by accident.
I suppose it will be my new inhabitant.
I do wonder, while crawling through my body, what it will find.
Will it lurk in my mouth or creep through my mind?
While squirming through my body, what will it see-
A pepper, a peach, a pear, or a pea,
The ham and cheese sandwich I had for lunch,
Pepsi, prune juice, Powerade, or fruit punch,
An apple, an orange, or banana peel,
My sister’s attempt at cooking a meal?
But maybe it won’t see any of this,
Not fries, fajitas, fudge, or fish,
Perhaps only organs, tissues, and cells,
Or biochemical juices and gels.
I suppose the little bug will see my DNA
And the fat I acquired on Thanksgiving Day.
I’m sure it will see my centrioles, vacuoles, and genes,
Or all of my thoughts, hopes, and dreams.
Maybe, just maybe, he’ll see other bug friends;
But what will he do when his long journey ends?
What will it encounter- a tendon, bone, vessel, or cell wall?
Perhaps it will see emptiness, nada, or nothing at all.
What kind of adventures will the bug undergo?
I suppose I will never know.