for the bugs

From dusk until dawn
thousands of grasshopper bugs
converged by deepest consensus of migratory instinct
to worship in the cold light of that electric sun
above the sink near my bedroom

In that sterile glow, some revelers launch themselves aimlessly
and with great force
raging in silence with their tiny power

while others dive headlong at the machine
again and again
Maybe trying to meet god, if I could aim my body just right this time
But only as iron filings are drawn to total and mindless attention
again and again
when compelled by the greater charisma of an equally mindless magnetic rock

Anyway, down the hall, another god. Across the street
yet more. In this town, billions of moments swarm around each indifferent idol

In the morning, spent
they carpet the floor, walls
and ceiling above the sink near my bedroom
all dead.