The Fly, Hand and Poo
The fly landing on my hand After jovial excrement dancing Doesn't know the difference Between me and shit; We're all food to the fly We're all food to the fly No difference between me And shit; The fly salutes me and then The fly salutes the shit By rubbing it's little front legs Grateful for another tasty lick; All food for the glorious golden Metal colored and painted body Of the noble fly who vomits And pukes on me and the poo; Made of food the shit and I Made of food for the fly Made of food we all are we Dung, urine and all our fleshy goodness; Go away fly you've touched me And you've touched shit Shit is a better place to rest and dine Not my hands, face, arms or legs; The fly goes away as I attempted A self gratifying picture of us both I figure we are now friends I and my insect muse must document This occasion. Image: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ch.megacephala_wiki.j