Ode To My Cicada Homies (3301)

C to the I to the C-A-D-A

Ode To My Cicada Homies (3301)
Photo by Laura Gilchrist / Unsplash

by Corey Miller


Pour one out for my underground brooders

The ones with nanoscale spiked wings

biomaterial killin’ bacteria like cooters

Got shells blastin’ invasive things


Gnats with gats stunnin’ fly bys

Loudest insect in the world males mating calls

Aggregate chorusin’ hive cries

Sentenced courtship what katydid mocks death malls


Window shoppin’ for the best crack

Of bark to lay eggs for teenage emergin’ babies

Thorax hoppin’ cuz the rest whack

Whiskey drinker sippin’ jarfly poundin’ ladies


Evaporative cool like honey stingers

Singin’ mouthparts for the sticky tree ringers

Eyed up the joints we have to rob thems

Mo time for spendin’ means mo time for problems


C to the I to the C-A-D-A

Double drummer year let’s come out to play

Question our insouciance, who cares why?

Know you'd rather see us die than see us fly


Call all the shots, rip all the spots

rock all the rocks, crop all the drops

I know ur thinkin' now, "When all the callin' stops?"

Go ahead, have ur doubt. No biggie cuz we’re comin’ out


Pour two out for both gangs risin’

Feeble jumpers, nocturnal thumpers despisin’

Laws sung cryptic not surprisin’

Less than two months to live but check on us thrivin’


Livin’ like birds gettin’ head rostrum

Burrowed beneath but we’d still host ‘em

Live off lap after a decade dirt nap

Stick the tip in for a taste of that sap


We downrolled edging sets

We up trolled hedging bets

Time to wake up don’t sleep on it

Time to make up don’t peep on it


Constructed mud towers used to aerate

Bodies coated in anal juice leaves me irrate

Moist selves boist that dumptruck of a back

What choice we have but we’re comin’ back


C to the I to the C-A-D-A

Double drummer year let’s come out to play

Question our insouciance, who cares why

Know you'd rather see us die than see us fly


Call all the shots, rip all the spots

rock all the rocks, crop all the drops

I know ur thinkin' now, "When all the callin' stops?"

Go ahead, have ur doubt. No biggie cuz we’re comin’ out



Corey Miller’s writing has appeared in Booth, Pithead Chapel, Atticus Review, Hobart, X-R-A-Y, and elsewhere. He has been awarded the 2023 Literary Cleveland Breakthrough Residency and was a Kenyon Review Writers Workshop ‘23 attendee. He reads for TriQuarterly. When Corey isn’t brewing beer for a living in Cleveland, he enjoys taking the dogs for adventures. Follow him on Instagram: @IronBrewed Twitter: @IronBrewer or at www.CoreyMillerWrites.com