Standing by the weathered deck rail
I stare down at the larger fly
It walks around the glass obelisk that towers above
And studies it as  
I a glass ringed skyscraper down town

Wings flicker golden in questioning bursts
Looking at the welcoming hole in the bottom of the trap
Inside some are swimming in the mealy water of sweetness
Ugly crazy eight paths in their last circles

Some are climbing up the glass walls,
Entombed, striving futile escape through the silver dome
Some still fly their trapeze patterns before their last dive
Wings flicker golden in questioning bursts
Pondering what entrance next