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	My Mosquito

	By Kevork K. Kalayjian, Jr.


	I woke up afterwards
	Naked on the beach,
	There was a swelling
	In the very bottom of my belly
	Lost in the pubic hair.
	"It's not a dormant clitoris." The doctor said,
	"You don't need a sex change operation,
	It's only a mosquito bite."

	Ever since by birth
	My mosquito has been with me
	Wherever and whenever I am,
	From the dingiest restaurants
	to the most decorous bedrooms.

	Just because you don't see her now
	It doesn't mean that she is not around.
	When she is not right above my forehead
	She is usually fighting other mosquitoes
	Trying to get near me.

	My mosquito is the reason why
	I resort to write in short lines,
	You see, my insect needs my attention,
	Thus diminishing my capacity of concentration,
	I am forced to curtail my expressions
	So that while looking up and around
	I wouldn't miss an inscription.

	All my scientific inventions
	Were very close to, albeit
	Always fell short of perfection,
	My theories seemed comprehensive, yet
	I had to allow for exceptions.

	I wouldn't be surprised if
	My mosquito works for
	The KGB, the CIA, or the MOSSAD,
	Even the Spanish Inquisition!
	Because I know she is there
	Yet, I can only prove it
	By unsubstantiated depictions.

	I used to strive to get her
	By sudden moves in the air,
	And abrupt claps over my head
	When I was a Portuguese dancer.
	Then I tried the avoidance technique
	By doing the break dance
	On the intersections of
	New York City streets,
	For a Genocide Survivor
	This was amazing
	Nothing could free me from
	her penetrating proboscides.
	I still find the swelling of her sting,
	And I feel the pain after I've been stung,
	But, never! she is caught in the act.

	Speaking about 'the act',
	I have yet to experience
	One of the most intimate acts
	Without worrying
	About her bite.

	Can you imagine?
	When expected to get on with the action
	Having to say, "Wait a minute,
	First, I have to take care if this bug!"

	Not only it is utterly annoying
	But on the most solemn occasions
	This unwelcomed intrusion
	Forces one to the conclusion
	That devotion is only a delusion.

	Ladies and gentlemen My Mosquito!
	You cannot catch what you cannot let go!


Kevork Kalayjian is a decendent of refugees from the town of Kilis,
in the Cilician region of Armenia. An accountant by profession, he
likes to paint and write. His next project is to collect the names of
100 volunteer Armenian-American families who would like to resettle in
Armenia and jump-start a new way of work and life there. Some of his
poems have been published in Armenian media such as "Ararat" and at
www.poetry.com.