A Fly On The Wall

Ms. Chesterfield lifted a feathery hand
As on her death bed she did lie
She said “children I have just one final wish
And that’s to come back as a fly”

Her kids looked around with their brows furrowed deep
With queries abuzz in their heads
But nary a question could any to ask
Because by that time she was dead

Her mister he mourned for a day and a half
Though some called him cad and some heathen
He dared them all down to see what was around
Now that he had found his new freedom

And boldly he ventured with every young thing
And drove around town quite undaunted
A mistress once hid in a Motel 6 bed
He now would have quite proudly flaunted

And so to the best restaurant he did take
His passion of greatest amor
A sweet 26 to his arm he’d affix
And let’s call her his babe du jour

But just as a waiter was pouring their drinks
And put out their basket of bread
The two were harassed by a winged insect pest
Who persistently buzzed by their heads

And landed on lips, flitted to fingertips
And even left plenty of poop
But imagine the luck of that dear fly had struck
When the waiter did bring out the soup

Because oh that fly gave it the college try
To extract her revenge on a cheater
To the cruel world goodbye as she hastened to dive
And the second death was that much sweeter


57 thoughts on “A Fly On The Wall

  1. Haha… ok, so I have to know, was the soup gazpacho? Because, after all, they say revenge is a dish best served cold! (btw, stanza 5, line 3 is doubled up. I also noted a double “that” in Stanza 7, line 3.)

    • i thought of that later and definitely wondered why I hadn’t sooner as for sure would have added a line about revenge being a dish served…why I don’t know…hadn’t even considered the possibility of gazpacho!

  2. I’m doing all right,Melissa. Some trauma here and there during the year, but now I mainly have the heat to combat. The A/C man is due today to fix it so we can start depending more on it and less on the fans that don’t do much good unless you’re directly in front of them. How’s you r son doig?

The Blood Trail Starts Here...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s