Little fly, you want to die
                          A suicide dive to the drink of death

                          But I want to know why
                          My suicidal fly,
                          That in my drink you choose to die?
                          It makes me think this grave intention,
                          to capture my complete attention

                          Indeed!
                          Not to end intestate,
                          Rather 'tis to irritate.
                          Well little fly.

                          Just out of spite,
                          I just might,
                          Dredge each coffee of your soppy, floppy body;
                          Then puff up your wings,
                          with my hair drying things

© Jean Burgess
Berlin, 2004
in 'On Reflection'
Published by WCPP, Perth 2005

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