sorenbarrett

Flies

A savory dish of fish lay on my plate
Then from the sky along came a fly
Under a napping eye, not being shy, my food he ate
Rather than eat fly meat, let him fly instead of die

Now on my dinner little flecks, dark fly specks
Chose my plate, from which I ate, clean and pure
Two flies that mate on my plate, no respect having sex
Despite his friendliness, its cleanliness now unsure

Their numbers abate, but it\'s hard keeping them off my plate
One or two my left hand does shew
Buzzing over seductive bait, so patiently they wait
At first only few, but how quickly their numbers grew

They have a thief\'s intent in their decent
On my meal, juices congeal, bits of feces from far away
Food\'s purity inedible went, with a fly in their assent
The rude, tasting my food, lascivious harbingers of decay

In a cowardly theft, they take the unguarded or what\'s left
For the sake of a meal, from weak and old they steal
Left with a buzzing laugh of theft, unable to eat I sit bereft
Sated they crawl elated, over the cold wreckage of my meal