Fuzzy and undefined, like a drunken helicopter engaged yet disengaged from his peers.
Shadowing bananas and long-since-emptied glasses of red wine and orange juice.
Like a tiny speck of shredded black wool, the fruit fly lingers in the kitchen, clearly searching for a home once the counters are clear and the dishes are finished.
And dreaming of an open container of strawberries or the next sloppily made peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Watch the fruit fly die
Mind if I try?
Bat an eye and have another try
Nether and nye, allusive and sly
Little buggers they feast upon blueberry pie
Posted by: Jackie Webber | August 31, 2006 at 03:25 PM
Nicely worded, my friend.
Posted by: Dan | September 05, 2006 at 09:56 PM