Housefly Justyna JBJart



Why do you circle so,
Retracing regurgitation,
Over nothing in particular.

Pluck down, shooed away—
Now you’re around again.
Stuck clown, glued pathway—
How you’re bound in vain.

A sweet, sticky spill just yonder,
Won’t you be happiest to visit it,
And vomit for purposeful profit.

Perhaps you aspire to
An early expiration,
Suspecting a tragic inclination,
Detecting something rotten
In the perspiration,
Predicting a not-to-be resignation.



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