Sometimes writing helps release our emotions and ease our pains. It is true of things serious and of things trivial. This is the latter.
Defeated
The creature of flight that I despise:
Red eyed, erratic, fruit flies.
I whisk you from my face each day
Kitchen, bath, rooms away.
You travel in on banana bunches,
Pears and apples and things for lunches.
If that was all I could eliminate
And find myself a peaceful state.
But such a joy, such a pleasure
Is truly an unreachable treasure.
For you mix and mingle, meet and mate
In my presence, which I don’t appreciate.
Your eggs hide well and larvae grow
In cool dark places—Google knows.
While they mature my loathing does too.
I craft some traps of old and new.
Bananas in a jar, there’s hope,
Or cider vinegar and drops of soap.
Either way, either one
You will die, I will have won.
The problem now is not with you.
You’re down the drain. Dead.
Phew!
It’s all your kids and babies and grands:
8 days from egg to “Quite a man!”
I’ve won the battle with you I see,
But I’ve lost to your posterity.
