47. Summer flies
© Bruce Goodman 22 October 2017

(The poetic form selected for this week is an adaptation of the Vietnamese luc bat.)

Let me make one thing clear:
It’s not been a good year for flies.
It’s cold and each fly dies
Before they can lay shit-pies and eggs
Upside-down with their legs
Stuck to the ceiling, pegged up there.

I’ve a good mind to swot
At the several I’ve got, but oh!
I think I’ll let them go;
Fly free, you flies, but know one thing:
To pet cat food don’t bring
An egg to make a single maggot.

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