Author Topic: Why?  (Read 1176 times)

Offline Dylan di Vilde

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« on: November 23, 2016, 10:53:30 AM »

So there am I,
just a blameless guy,
when this teeny tiny fly
flies straight in my eye!
Oh my,
sez I,
you effing fly.

In a mirror nearby
I spot the irritating fly
drowning in my runny eye.
Gingerly I try
to wipe and swipe and poke and pry.
It proves elusive, dead or shy.
Frustrations start to multiply,
Iím crankier than Captain Bligh,
Iíll get you effing fly, I cry,
loudly wondering why
it had to pick my effing eye
in which to go and effing die.

Now twenty minutes on I sigh,
peering at the effing fly,
extricated, high and dry.
Listen, effing fly, growls I, Ė
youíre gutsy, that I canít deny,
but Iím a unforgiving guy
and if you mess with such as I,
Iíll hunt you down and you will die.
For I can kill you with my eye.

My fingertip held briefly nigh,
I flick the tiny corpse goodbye. 

Based on a true story.
No creatures were harmed during the events described.

Apart from the fly I killed. 

And yes Iíd do it again.

Sweepings from the Factory Floor - New volume of poems available now at Ė