Well, there are some students here today from--
high school, middle school?
High school.
So they might like a laugh.
And I think they've already might
have had one over this poem, but maybe they'd
like to hear me read it, a poem about one
of my favorite animals, mosquitoes.
I try to love all the creatures, but some are a little more
difficult to love.
I was up on the aforementioned island
and went with my friend, Peter Cunningham,
who's a wonderful photographer.
We were real eager to go to this remote island
off of our island to photograph this lighthouse that
was about to fall into the sea.
And we went out there about dusk, and I was going to write,
and he was going to take pictures.
We didn't think, we're going out to a wetland at dusk.
Insect repellent?
It didn't occur to anyone.
Well, this is what happened.
And for you, students, there's natural history in here.
As your teacher may have told you,
the mosquitoes that bite us are the females,
and they are getting proteins so that they
can make their babies.
OK.
Mosquitoes.
Birds and the bees and the mosquitoes.
"Mosquitoes."
"First came the scouts, who felt our sweat in the air
and understood our need to make a sacrifice.
We were so large and burdened with all we had carried,
our blood too rich for our own good.
They understood that we could give what
they needed and never miss it.
Then came the throng encircling our heads
like acoustic halos droning with the me-me-me of appetite.
We understood their pleasure to find such hairless beasts so
easy to open and drink.
We understood their female ardor to breed,
and how little they had to go on,
considering the protein required to make
their million-fold eggs.
Vibrant, available, and hot, we gave our flesh
in selfless service to their future."