With the full privilege of a month in a Himalayan hut, I was granted the rare liberty of observing a common fly for a period not too removed from two hours.
Watching a fly 1; flytipping
If I tried to clean my wings with my feet,
my face and the floor would quickly meet.
So it’s proven, six legs is so much easier;
if cleaning your wings with your feet does pleaseya.
Watching a fly 2; I guess I’m just a jealous fly
With SIX legs all like dainty quavers
you can stand without the wobbles and wavers.
So it seems unfair to us two-legged standers
that a fly who flys stands better than a man does.
Watching a fly 3; I believe I can fly
With particular attention I have come to devise
that our friend the fly has remarkable eyes.
So to balance the natural order of things
I’ve ordered a twin-pack of humanoid wings.
Watching a fly 4; flybrid
‘If I halved a watermelon
and mounted the two halves to my fore head,
I’d look like a fly.’
Other poems by The Word Dog