Summertime in Louisiana, you can’t hear yourself think

for all the din the bugs are making.  Insect-inside your brain,

cicadas buzzing that rising and falling strain like they never

get enough of it, like kids trying to out-scream each other

walking under the overpass and echoing tiny voices

to sound much bigger than themselves. Put ’em all together,

all the noises of cricket and hornet and frog, and you get a

daily racket that don’t even quit when the sun sets.  You’d think

they would grow tired, lose their voices, but this anthropod-cacophony’s got

more back-up singers than Beyoncé and it’s been going longer than any

symphony on earth.  Spider started conducting before humans had ears

to hear it with, and bumblebees will rumble their bass beat long after

we turn to dirt. Even after our mayfly bodies fold their wings and cities crumble

like ant-hills after a summer thunderstorm, there will still be

singing things  in the trees.

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