I was fast.
The fly was faster.
WHAM!
Leave a reply
I was fast.
The fly was faster.
“Excuse me, Sir
but I do believe that
your client
has had one too many drinks.”
Said the fly
to my leg.
It’s the dead of winter
and there is a
big fat fly
marauding around my garage
coming closer and closer
to my head
as it sweeps out
trying to get the most
of the situation
and I sit here
writing this
to Stevie Wonder
with a used blunt
in the ashtray
sipping on a glass of Scotch.
I light a smoke.
The fly still gets closer.
Somewhere in Western China
someone is fucking
a blow-up doll.