In Which a Confrontation with a Fly Brings Our Hero to a Tragic Epiphany (Borrowing a Line from James Wright)
The fly did its swan dives and pirouettes
All the while bewitching with its little kazoo
And I sat there basted in sweat and hating its guts
Perhaps because I never had the stick-to-itiveness
To learn a musical instrument
And on the dance floor I’m burdened
With two left feet, or perhaps because I knew
If I smelled it close it would
Smell like death or I realized
It would always win a tickle fight.
I found myself clapping for it nonetheless.
I have wasted my life.
3 thoughts on "In Which a Confrontation with a Fly Brings Our Hero to a Tragic Epiphany (Borrowing a Line from James Wright) "
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Cool idea to end an essentially comic poem with that line from Wright. Well done.
Even though I read you the title, I still wasn’t prepared for the way it ends! I love this. Very clever.
Love love “All the while bewitching with its little kazoo”