The cicadas here are
Like power tools, invading
Your conscience until they
Have taken root in your eardrum
And ring even after their noise
Has ceased. They are like no
Other buzzing cicada I have
Ever heard, who’s sounds would
Actually come as a relief
Compared to these guys. I see
Their green iridescent bodies
Trapped in rigor mortis
Everywhere, large, the same
As in the Amazon, as long as
Your index finger. For the first
First few hours here I truly
Thought there were construction
Sites all over the mountain. Oddly
Enough I have grown accustomed
To their noise and find it as regular
And beautiful as the numerous
Species of butterfly and moth
That flit through the air, as if
The breeze themselves.


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