Poem and Painting by Dr. Abe V. Rotor
Aesop's locust in summer brown,
Lonely creature with face of clown;
In monsoon full, hues of green;
Grotesque and mean I've ever seen.
Its kin picks dust to clothe its frame,
Wakes up at dusk and plays the game
Of feigning dead, devoid of spark;
Its enemies think it is all bark.
Where comes the trigger, that I know,
Hormones by signal freely flow,
Masking colors, painting a view,
To match a perfect scenario.
Deceit and conceit in duo,
Makes one believe or doesn’t know
To accept things or analyze
Nature’s own sweet and gentle lies.