Mr. Fly, he don’t say much,
not one for small talk or gossip.
He’s hyper-alert because
his eyes are kinda’ weird.
He has thousands of lenses
so I don’t knows what he sees –
must be wild, must be fractured
like everything else, like hope
like trust, like all our plans.
Mr. Fly don’t like the cold and wet.
He only comes around when
it’s sunny and warm, you might
call him a fair-weather friend
but I wouldn’t advise it.
It might hurt his feelings
and he is already blue.
It’s a hard life being a fly –
everyone wants to kill you.
Mr. Fly comes to see me
when it’s sunny and warm.
He don’t say much but he sees a lot.
Mr. Fly, he fly real fast and
I don’t knows where he goes,
but he likes to come around
when the sun is high
and the air is warm
to have his picture taken.
A Small Blue Marble 
A reappearance of your blue bottle fly friend from a previous post? I very much enjoy his appearances.
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Yes, same fly. It is a little spooky the way he does. He loves to have his picture taken. I didn’t use a macro lens on this photo. He let me get that close to him. He did seriously violate our covenant a couple of days ago. He flew into the kitchen which I think was a mistake. This is strictly verboten. I held the door open for him and ordered him out. He obligingly departed. Thanks for your note.
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[…] 57th and they would remain indistinguishable. What mind I had left to lose is certainly gone now. I am talking to insects. I am reading Tarot cards. I suppose this will be the last time I write to you on this topic. The […]
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