Its commensal, at best,
This house fly of a guest;
Who frequents your home,
Alits on a chair,
Rubbing its hands together.
It shows no regrets,
Feeding, slurping and buzzing,
With a self-made bequest.
I can tolerate a bar fly;
A barn fly, a sty fly;
But,
I've the guzzling brand.
One that plunders my fridge,
That swarms over my beer
Like a blood-thirsty midge.
He's a house fly,
And ignorant,
So fly paper won't do.
I need a SWAT
To shoo this house fly adieu.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A brilliant poem on fly and alcoholism has been astutely delineated. I appreciate the way of presentation. Thanks for sharing.