Life And Death Of The Common Fly Poem by Raj Arumugam

poor man
was made in the image of God
(especially man, especially the he’s!)
and so he he he must abide
with rules and propriety
and commandments and ideals


whereas I,
I am free to go
where I choose
to wing myself


(no doubt I fear the fly-swat
though I escape that mostly with dexterity)


ah, strange that it is a petty fly
just a common fly, a housefly
just me
that knows unconditioned freedom;
for I have no ideals to pursue
and am not judged nor do I judge
and can fly low and high
and no one cares if I feed at dung-piles
and sit cleaning my feet on most sacred altars
or run up the nostrils of most reverend masters


ah, to be a fly -
far better a short soul-less life
(ended perhaps by your fly-swatter)
of daring and freedom
than an eternal life of burning Hell
or eternal, unquestioning drugged obedience



poor man
was made in the image of God
(especially man, especially the he’s!)
and so he he he must abide
an eternity
of rules and propriety
and commandments and ideals