I ate a bug this morning, by accident.

I suppose it will be my new inhabitant.

I do wonder, while crawling through my body, what it will find.

Will it lurk in my mouth or creep through my mind?

While squirming through my body, what will it see-

A pepper, a peach, a pear, or a pea,

The ham and cheese sandwich I had for lunch,

Pepsi, prune juice, Powerade, or fruit punch,

An apple, an orange, or banana peel,

My sister’s attempt at cooking a meal?

But maybe it won’t see any of this,

Not fries, fajitas, fudge, or fish,

Perhaps only organs, tissues, and cells,

Or biochemical juices and gels.

I suppose the little bug will see my DNA

And the fat I acquired on Thanksgiving Day.

I’m sure it will see my centrioles, vacuoles, and genes,

Or all of my thoughts, hopes, and dreams.

Maybe, just maybe, he’ll see other bug friends;

But what will he do when his long journey ends?

What will it encounter- a tendon, bone, vessel, or cell wall?

Perhaps it will see emptiness, nada, or nothing at all.

What kind of adventures will the bug undergo?

I suppose I will never know.