September 2012

Insect Insult

Fly scowls at window

Rap, tap, muffles buzz

boring into mind.

I arm myself with swatter,

limp, green, a weapon

or salvation from incessant drone.

I feel no regret.

The damn fly had its chance,

door wide. Perhaps the eyes

confuse, no matter. I will

hunt you down, black spot,

and end your ping pong life

risking the karma doom

for silence, stillness.