Defeated

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.