Whose Plague Is It ?

Its flattened body shaped like a sunfish,
maneuvers with ease through hair shafts.
Its large hind legs were adapted for jumping,
it could travel quickly speaking vertical laughs.

It’s row of spines catches the hair,
with a deep and backward pull.
So It would not be dislodged,
if Its host scratched it off full.

With Its rows of sharp mandibles,
It bit into the flesh unnoticed.
Salivary secretions caused an itch,
sensations in the host most remotest.

Even though It had just punctured the skin,
the unfortunate host extracts Its meal of blood,
It was still hungry because of the infection,
poison that multiplies within Its system like mud.

blockage in Its throat when It attempted to feed,
the meal could not pass below the blocked cage.
Instead It puked up blood back into the host,
It was unable to swallow Its own blood back rage.

It would eventually starve to death within the interlude,
containing the poison It will die of the disease It did transmit.
You and I are the vectors in an event of horrific magnitude,
because the plague is finally here and you are really It.


Transmogrified from “WE ALL FALL DOWN” by Jeani Rector