Flies
Flies
by Christopher Walsh, 6/7/2022-7/10/2022
Try to reason with a fly
Who somehow flew inside, awry
When outside has what’d satisfy
That fly much more - but no, it plies
This space that’s meant for me (says I)
And will not hear. This feels wry.
You’d think it sees, per compound eye,
The way away, back into sky
But flies are, sadly, never sly
And just buzz ’round, ’til I say “why.”
Go through the glass, they’ll try and try
And try and try and try and try
But that is physics - can’t defy
The clear-but-solid panes nearby
An argument just wouldn’t fly
- It hears vibrations (debate? No, vibes) -
And unlike us, can’t process-high
The thoughts of how to go good-bye.
A fly will never beautify
Your bedroom, den, or even sty
Though luckily, they cannot cry
At their ill fortune: by and by,
They’ll fly until they cannot fly,
No problem where: they won’t decry
The place they’re at. (Don’t yell out “Lie!”
That’s just contrary. Like this fly.
Or should that be “unlike this fly”?
A fly just is. Like Tao. Oh my.)
These thoughts of yours preoccupy
When you try to reason with a fly.
© Christopher Walsh, 2022. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Christopher Walsh (chris_walsh) with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
by Christopher Walsh, 6/7/2022-7/10/2022
Try to reason with a fly
Who somehow flew inside, awry
When outside has what’d satisfy
That fly much more - but no, it plies
This space that’s meant for me (says I)
And will not hear. This feels wry.
You’d think it sees, per compound eye,
The way away, back into sky
But flies are, sadly, never sly
And just buzz ’round, ’til I say “why.”
Go through the glass, they’ll try and try
And try and try and try and try
But that is physics - can’t defy
The clear-but-solid panes nearby
An argument just wouldn’t fly
- It hears vibrations (debate? No, vibes) -
And unlike us, can’t process-high
The thoughts of how to go good-bye.
A fly will never beautify
Your bedroom, den, or even sty
Though luckily, they cannot cry
At their ill fortune: by and by,
They’ll fly until they cannot fly,
No problem where: they won’t decry
The place they’re at. (Don’t yell out “Lie!”
That’s just contrary. Like this fly.
Or should that be “unlike this fly”?
A fly just is. Like Tao. Oh my.)
These thoughts of yours preoccupy
When you try to reason with a fly.
© Christopher Walsh, 2022. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Christopher Walsh (chris_walsh) with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.