The Ultimate Ultrasonic Battle

Her thorax makes loud clicking noises. Bats
become confused, as in a misty dream.
While flying mammal sonar is the cream
of sound reflection gizmos, just as rats
get lost in labyrinths or deafened cats
can’t find the mouse, the moth’s shrill babel beam
discombobulates the bats, which deem
her flesh ambrosial, though she’s foul as mats
of mountain goat hair mixed with mold. Somewhat
off course, the bats try harder. Yet a crew
of millions will not catch this gal. All told,
her zzt-zzt-zzt makes quite an addled sot
of hunters darting through the Stygian hue
of night, intent on finding insect gold.

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(Won The Oldie’s 2019 Annual Bouts-rimés Competition, and appeared in the magazine’s August issue.)