Survival: March Fly

by Es

Float through humid air

wings in check

glide, swoop, flick

eyes in check, thousands of them,

look, focus, see.

Legs out, like helicopter skids

landing pad, a lily pad

and the plop like a marimba

as the creature lands gracefully.

And the fly forgets

resting in the rays of sweet stupidity.

Water ripples

a quiver, under foot of fly

scares the little guy.

A disturbance,

emergency takeoff

frantic flapping,

But slimy spear locates, reaches, grabs;

the tongue of frog.

Turbulence!

the fly’s mind cries.

It tries to synthesize

meaning in one megabyte memory

It’s pleading

buzz, a broken radio signal.

As the tongue retracts,

it rips just a leg back

leaving him free.

And the fly forgets.

Es is a prolific writer with phenomenal fashion sense. They have previously disrupted the spacetime continuum and loves cats.