The Death Of A Fly - Poem by Russell Edson
There was once a man who disguised himself as a
housefly and went about the neighborhood depositing
Well, he has to do something hasn't he? said someone to
Of course, said someone else back to someone.
Then what's all the fuss? said someone to someone else.
Who's fussing? I'm just saying that if he doesn't get off the
wall of that building the police will have to shoot him off.
Oh that, of course, there's nothing so engaging as a dead
I love dead flies, the way they remind me of individuals
who have met their fate . . .
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The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
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