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Randy Minnich: Of Moths and Men

I could make like a woolly bear,
hustle my hundred feet across the macadam,
roll up in my fuzz beneath a leaf,
and let the wild winds blow.

Icy-eyed troopers are stalking our streets.
Like hogs after truffles
they’re snorting out empathy.

They’re marching with torches on labs and libraries.
What fingers, I wonder, will plug the dikes
when the waves of virus return?

Robots built our cars. They’re driving them now.
Peering up from iPhones.
Eying our cubicle chairs.

As oceans warm and creatures die,
the billionaires from glassed-in offices demand
Drill, Baby, Drill.

The world is upside down.

Under February ice, the caterpillars slumber.
If they can waken in April, their DNA
will surge, will pour them into Isabella Tigers
to flutter in the night. And if they can evade
the bats, the parasitic wasps, the pesticides,
they’ll lay their eggs in hidey-holes
and hope.

I’m 83. I could cash out. But
I have eggs, as well.

 Photo: Javier Millan. Live Science.

~~~~

Copyright 2025 Randy Minnich

Randy Minnich is a retired research chemist and chemistry professor. He now focuses on writing, environmental issues, birdwatching, and grandchildren. He has published two books, Wildness in a Small Place and Pavlov’s Cats: Their Story.


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13 comments on “Randy Minnich: Of Moths and Men

  1. PCCC
    June 13, 2025
    PCCC's avatar

    Profit over planet—how did we let it get this far?

    Like

    • Vox Populi
      June 13, 2025
      Vox Populi's avatar

      Exactly! We need to reclaim ethics and responsibility which have been relegated to the domain of “suckers.”

      >

      Like

  2. boehmrosemary
    June 10, 2025
    boehmrosemary's avatar

    Nothing has changed. This is a rough translation of the first two stanzas by a poem by German poet/writer Erich Kästner. His poem rhymes.

    The Development of Humanity

    by Erich Kästner

    Once upon a time, men sat in trees,
    hairy and with angry faces.
    Then they were lured out of the jungle
    and the world was paved and built up,
    up to the thirtieth floor.

    There they sat, flea-free,
    in centrally heated rooms.
    Now they are on the phone.
    And the tone is still the same
    as it was back then in the trees.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. jbauer103waolcom
    June 10, 2025
    jbauer103waolcom's avatar

    What a deft, wily & timely poem!

    Randy is a longtime member of the Squirrel Hill Poetry Workshop in Pittsburgh, and we really look forward to his poems. This one is especially great!

    “snorting out empathy” Wow!

    Congratulations and cheers!

    Joan E. Bauer

    Liked by 3 people

  4. sillydelightfully0cb86360e7
    June 10, 2025
    sillydelightfully0cb86360e7's avatar

    Thank you Randy! May the caterpillars waken and avoid the predators. I wonder if they worry that it won’t happen.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Barbara Huntington
    June 10, 2025
    Barbara Huntington's avatar

    “What fingers, I wonder, will plug the dikes
    when the waves of virus return?” Today I am sick so I have an excuse to pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep, but even this one old gal knows she will have to return to the fray. Dammit, I have grandchildren!

    Liked by 2 people

  6. jmnewsome93c0e5f9cd
    June 10, 2025
    jmnewsome93c0e5f9cd's avatar

    Of moths and men. I read this poem and put on my mourning cloak. Nurture your eggs, Randy Minnich.

    Liked by 3 people

  7. Sean Sexton
    June 10, 2025
    Sean Sexton's avatar

    wonderfully acidic and adept and how sad I am to praise its art and truth and live in its real world.

    Liked by 4 people

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This entry was posted on June 10, 2025 by in Environmentalism, Poetry, Social Justice and tagged , , , , , .

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