An Italian fly
not taking “No! ” for an answer
decides
(I don’t know why)
to stealthily
sneak inside
my slowly tanning
...foreskin.
It makes my skin
crawl.
Is there no where
they won’t go!
This does not
(as I imagine it would anymore yours)
tickle my fancy.
I deplore
its need to explore
& remove the intruder
from my private grounds
thus sentencing it
to death
with an...oh
...so hefty slap
to my left
then quickly right
testicle.
It more than likely
hurts me a lot more
than it did
the fly
who stunned
is pushed to its death
by a vengeful toe
pushing it over
the balcony.
Chou...chou!
*******
PUTTING THE
OFF! ON!
Under Italian skies
candlelight dances
in your eyes
Slap! Slap! Slap!
God damn these
God damned flies!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, the flies were the only fly in the ointment of our lovely balcony last week in Italy, weren't they! They loved you almost as much as I do (thank goodness I don't get slapped away, though!)