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i locked a fly inside my safe
to see if it could survive,
and two weeks later to my surprise
the fly still hadn’t died.

its incarceration wasn’t intentional,
of that i assure you –
i won’t pressure you with a confession of animal abusion –
but it just flew in there, that dumbass diptera
and, putting all semblance of a conscience aside,
from the moment i saw it hovering over the dirty dish brine
i cursed its damned bastard behind!
with wings that fly fast as it buzzes past
and irritates my fragile mind,
and a dirty sucky straw-hole for a mouth that eats garbage
for the supposed duration of its ironic adult life.

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