Flies and Opportunity
By Step_20
I blinked my eyes,
to shew the fly that had landed there.
For a while it sat perched on my iris,
and finding nothing worth while,
crawled to my eyelid.
I turned off the TV;
a window to those better than me.
The fly landed there again to survey,
And again finding nothing,
Flew out the window.
Funny...I hadn't noticed it was open before.
A sudden RElief.
Tremors in my chest from tonic breeze.
Lurching forward, chasing it from my room,
I must not have taken a breath for a while...
Remote in hand.
What was it I had been thinking of,
or thought of,
or decided to forget?
Drinking, denial, revival, or regret?
Things I heard, the spoken word, relationships, neglect?
I lay back against the slope of pillows, feet dangling toward the floor.
I blinked my eyes,
Thinking about flies and how they move.
So jerky but somehow careful and light.
So much value to their time.
And I feed busy flies.
I turned on the TV.
*A news report about killer bees*
People would start killing them: Killer us?
Maybe the bees would kill me,
but leave the flies alone...
A sudden RElief
Comments on "Flies and Opportunity"
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On Sunday, April 22, 2007, stormtalk
(729) wrote:
rock the wittgenstein.
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On Saturday, January 27, 2007, Mari
(425) wrote:
what poem? which one did you like? and i hate flies. those fuckers are just always buzzing and when they do it seems like theyre ALWAYS right beside your ears. ugh! its annoying!