The Insect Man

Flies in the bathroom and ants on the stairs,
Big daddylonglegs all over the chairs,
Spiders abseiling from lampshade to door,
Red-spotted earwigs inhabit the floor.

His home is a haven for myriad kinds
Of minuscule creatures with minuscule minds.
He tiptoes around, out of fear he might tread
On some poor unfortunate centipede’s head.

He cares for them deeply and knows all their names,
And challenges termites to cute insect games.
He once took a bronchial gnat to the vet,
An event that the latter will scarcely forget.

He says they’re God’s creatures, in spite of their size,
A point that most normal folk don’t realise.
And keeping large animals isn’t the wisest,
And cat and dog owners are just being sizist.

The last thing you’d say of his home is it’s clean,
His new vacuum cleaner has never been seen.
The dust mites play merrily over the shelves,
Splashing around and enjoying themselves.

His poor next door neighbour went round to complain,
When hordes of grey beetles came up through the drain.
He said that his family was living in fear,
But he got sent away with a flea in his ear.