MICROBIA

A headstrong protozoan
Slipped by a sleeping cell
And tapped upon the rugged wall
To see if all was well.

Inside the protoplasm cursed,
"The nerve of that rude beast.
I hope some paramecium
Makes him his evening feast."

The headstrong protozoan
Sat down to rest and eat.
His gooey Pseudopodium
Refused to be a seat.

He slid behind an alga
And slithered through the ooze,
Wherein a bold echinoderm
Grabbed him by the shoes.

The headstrong protozoan
Was in the hands of fate.
He walked inside the starfish,
And they both sat down and ate.

Jay Cohen