Cicada and car horn

He says there is nothing little in cicada
Revving up when we blow a car horn.
Poet says so, in one of empty bubbles .

Here in my early dawn , cicada blows
Its bubble as predawn ritual of poem
To end up a bubble in cuckoo’s throat .

https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2017/07/06/queer-bubbles/

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