When the caterpillar started on my lunch
I gathered my friends the machinist, pipe-fitter, and electrician.
All figured it had been attracted by the greens.
Near our newly built, transport-ready locomotive,
We watched the hairy creeper chow down each yummy unit,
Slowly expanding, like the devil’s cat in luxury’s lap.
It had obviously never learned to share;
And why should it, with growth so heavy on its mind?
For several minutes we watched in awe.
His internal fire rivaling oil barrels on a picket line,
Lifted his boot and struck that greedy worm asunder,
As if to say, “how dare you steal my brother’s lunch?”
Time was, he wouldn’t hurt a fly, that Josh . . .
What can I say? Times have changed.