An Ode to Window Screens

July 14, 2015

Oh, screens on windows, how I miss thee. 

You keep the bugs out and protect my skin from all kinds of hellish insects. 

Without thee, I am a chew toy for the winged of Italy. 

They feast upon me while I slumber. 

I hate them with a fiery passion, those little bastards. 

When you bite, I never know. How often, that is clear when I wake. 

You little shits, leave me alone! A screen would keep you away. 

Why, oh why are there no screens in Italy?

'Tis a thing that makes one consider bringing a mosquito net to a Bed and Breakfast. 

Yet no screens exist, and by the light of the moon the tiny flying vampires quietly sneak into the room to attack my skin. 

How I loathe thee, let me count the ways. 

If I were thee, oh little mosquito jerks, I would go bite someone else! 

Oh window screens, I miss thee so. You are common to every house in the US.  You keep those little pricks out!

Alas, I do love Italy, but bemoan its lack of proper mosquito-keeper-outer devices for us poor German-Polacks who attract these little arseholes. 

What is it about my blood you like so much?

Why, oh why are there no window screens in Italy?

Alas, window screens... I miss thee... And will see thou soon. 

This ode brought to you by way too much sun in Siena.