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.
Alexander Nuttall
Editor
OgFOMK ArTS
ogfomk.com |
twitter: @ogfomk | LinkedIn: ogfomk | Facebook: OgFOMKzine
Editor
OgFOMK ArTS
ogfomk.com |
twitter: @ogfomk | LinkedIn: ogfomk | Facebook: OgFOMKzine