Friday, January 21, 2022

The Fly (A poem from my youth)

Insidious. Wretched. Obnoxious!
Go buzz around somewhere else.
Stop landing on my book.
As if you had any interest in Russian literature.
Perhaps you'd like to discuss Tolstoy, or Chekhov, eh?
That's it, bash your head again the window pane.
The one thing you need is a damaged brain.
What's that?
You want me to open the door for you?
What am I, your butler?
You found your way in,
Now find your way out.
Or, you can sit on the arm rest of my chair.
I'll end both our troubles 
If you just stay still.
Ready? One...two...
Wham!
Damn you, you insidious fly!

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