There was once a man who disguised himself as a housefly
and went about the neighbourhood depositing flyspecks.
Well, he has to do something hasn’t he? said someone to someone
else.
Of course, said someone else back to someone.
Then what’s all the fuss? said someone to someone else.
Who’s fussing? I’m just saying that if he doesn’t get off
the wall of that building the police will have to shoot him off.
Oh that, of course, there’s nothing so engaging
as a dead fly.
I love dead flies, the way they remind me of individuals
who have met their fate.
Russell Edson
