There is this fly in my house right now,
Daring flights of fancy brave aerial acrobatics,
As if sent from reincarnation of a past pest,
Someone who turned into a fly,
And accosting me in my bed-sheeted existence,
The dreary light of early day pouring in the room,
Late night pondering turning to late afternoon,
Awakening, to what?
To the fly that made me lose my pen,
To the simple, all powerful,
The fly laughed, rubbing his hands on the door frame,
mocking me,
making me lose my place,
on the depths of the reality,
Flying across my mind,
I tried to smash the ******* with my volumes,
Barbarous and cruel dives of absolute madness,
Obnoxious in the face hand waves,
dive bombs on the room,
slow enough to see, quick enough to flee,
"You only live one day, and this is how you spend it?"