Die flies Die

I know you are all God’s creatures

and that if you didn’t exist or were all wiped out

the world would be overcome with rotten food and stinky poo.

I am sure the spiders need you (but why are they so lazy in my house?)

and birds and frogs and other things with long sticky tongues

that I don’t know the names of, chameleons? In Wales?

On the lowest level of the food chain,

I suppose I should be grateful for your continued presence

and be happy even, as you buzz about my head

and disturb my slumber

and land on my dinner or in my tea (really! This happened last night!)

and fly past my ear, noisily, almost causing me to spill my hot soup

all over the floor or all over me.

I need to register that you are needed and just move on.

If you stayed on the wall, I’d be happy.

If you lingered on the window, I’d leave you be.

If you flew into my kitchen, had a circular low flying gander then flew out again

I could live with that and see you as part of the world of nature around me.

But you don’t.

You annoy me constantly and therefore

I will continue to hunt you down

and waste you with my super-fast fly swat

or my rolled up wet tea towel if the swat is temporarily employed

in another part of the house to discipline (and here I mean kill) your family and friends.

It’s sad I know, I am a fly murderer….

Yet I accept this fate

and move on through my life

without regret,

getting revenge taken out on me by your evil cousin the wasp

who stings me, cleverly, every year

when I’m not looking or even aware of it being there.

Yet I am always aware of you

and I hope you know

that I am glad in winter when you are all asleep

or hibernating

or bugging other people in other places.

Come into my home

and I will kill you,

plain and simple.

Unless you fly out of the door or window I invite you through.

Sorry,

but that’s just how it is dudes.

Die

Flies

Die.