cicadas raze you've made your last mating call. in the frail flatness of your current form, you resemble nothing so much as a dormant incandescent bulb with its brains blown out. i can't tell wizened wing from abdomen. one black eye stares back at me, misplaced and made menacing by the open mouth of your paraprocts. fifty feet away there's another just like you, slow cooking in this cruel sun. 230905 ... nr every time i notice them i remember the last meaningful time i noticed them. 230905 ... nr they capture the oppressive heat of the season in the most nostalgic way 230905 what's it to you? who go blather from