Eight: Extremities armed for the call of the wild; the hunter marches.
Seven: Strings fanning into the damp corners of cardboard castles.
Six: Sections of articulation, do they bow? Your speculation.
Five: Fighting for survival after a brutal night’s rain.
Four: Flattened by the yellow boot of a passerby.
Three: Thirty-day passes, then come the kids.
Two: Teeth? No, jaws! Anything but for life.
One and three quarters: Oh, I can’t stand the eyes.
One and a half: They’re all looking at me, different shapes and size!!
One and a quarter: God, so many freakin’ legs!
One and a fifth: I can practically feel one coming up my back! Can you?
One and a sixth: I shudder seeing the images of them as I scratch these words to life.
One and a thirty-second: I can just picture one opening up the jaws on my hand to take a bite.
One: order of Coleoptera (Beetles, Mom!), it’s lunchtime.
None: Left in my bladder, I’m gonna freakin’ die.