Like a fly trapped inside a house
endlessly buzzing in solitude
beating and
bumping and
banging on the glass
straining for escape
seeing a world more beautiful
and so much less alone,
I hurl myself at pretty girls
longing to find a love
like once I had...

But in the end
It's just my loneliness and me,
and hitting my head against a wall.

Everything she said hit his eardrum
like a rimshot. Maybe he was losing
his hearing or she was just losing
his attention. Dinner conversations
across a two foot table flew past
him like houseflies. With her soft,
blonde hair blanketing his collarbone,
her mouth seemed to pantomime
more the closer he leaned in.

My girlfriend was so pretty
And normal as could be
But then something horrible happened
And changed her entirely

One day she was sipping coffee
A spider fell into her cup
It was too late when she gagged
And realized she had swallowed the spider up

The next morning when she woke up
And scratched her sleepy head
She discovered that overnight she had grown
Eight spider legs and a giant spider head

She screamed as she crawled out the door
And shrieked when she looked into the mirror
Her spider senses tickled and twitched
And made my poor girlfriend quiver

Her life has never been the same
Being half a spider and half a lady
At first I wasn't sure I could continue dating her
I mean, just imagine starting a family and having a spider baby!

Sometimes I think and wonder
What to do with our lives
Normal is seeing your girlfriend shopping
Not chilling upside down from the ceiling watching Desperate Housewives

Sometimes its quite funny
To see her browsing at a store
Where she’d usually buy a pair of shoes
Now she’d have to buy three pairs more

When I couldn’t take her shopping
And tried to run off with the guys
She spun her spiderweb and caught me
And took me by surprise

I’m so sick of her spider antics
I really wish we were done
At first she was a lot of nice things
But now my spider girlfriend is no longer fun

I took her out to dinner
And the only thing she ate
Was a plate of fried houseflies
And a glass of lemonade

When I tried to hug her
Her eight legs wrapped me tight
They gave me such a shock
Eight legs were such a hideous sight!

I couldn't take it anymore
I broke it off with her and made her understand
But now I really regret my thoughtless decision
Because now my girlfriend is dating Spiderman.

She is
the book falling open to November,
sweet hidden wickedness of rhododendron,
her mouth a tuberose, pale.
*******.

She swells upon the eaves.
They touch at her thighs
to feel the texture of acrylics,
something frail, transitory,
beautiful.

She walks the beach in August,
sudden music out of nowhere,
houseflies and hypodermics,
the shadows that rustle
behind shower curtains.

Her need to be compelling is painful,
something purple and waxen,
a delicate blush.
Still, she writes the way
her body should look,

provocative, breathless,
stirring agony in its wake.

I frequently read my old poems and
feel my glass heart splinter with impatience
and demand why my muse escapes
my passions, and my talent must
sleep cold and lonely within the shadowy crescent
where an oil-fire’s tongues dare not lick.

Then, when face with banal, bittersweet
mimicry week after week, therein
braces a bothered stirring of flavorful
jumbles as aimless as houseflies bouncing
against the window blinds.

And, once again, my poems,
with their phoenix lifestyles, breathe brave
gulps with scarlet-robin-******* puffed
with gung-** vigor.
Where the poet’s rhythm takes on equestrian
expression along the staggered verses,
bequeathing shine to syllabic shine
and stealing pop from pursed, pronouncing lips.

Each doting word may kiss and nuzzle the
splinters that recognize a cut so rare
that this world’s physical balance would overturn
with no presence of such wondrous oddity.

Success is all he had
And hate was what it brought
Frenemies with smiles
All around your house
Perching your fortune as houseflies
The scramble stumble struggle  
That took you
To be a butterfly
Frenemies can
Make you turn larva
o-ver-night

Houseflies always buzz,
In the key of F.

Sometimes people come across,
As something different than they are.

A woman attending Clark,
Didn’t think she was smart.
But that was proved untrue,
With her one sixty-five I.Q.

There is No Child Left Behind,
But what is there for children already ahead.

Thomas Edison, holder of a thousand patents,
Was once called stupid by a teacher.

If I ever die, I’d like it to be,
In late March. That way, I’ll have
Winter to go with me, and
I’ll leave the world warm.

In New York, one person’s job is,
To check all the musical instruments,
And make sure they’re in tune.

Five months
One-hundred-fifty-three days
Three-thousand-six-hundred-seventy-two hours
Two-hundred- okay, you get the idea
It's been a long time
To me, at least
I mean, houseflies only live to be like a month old
Forget about houseflies
I want to write about you
And how amazing you are
How someone can be so amazing to me,
You make me feel like I'm at the top of the world,
Despite my fear of heights,
I am calm
Whenever I am with you
How is this possible?
That is a question that I have been pondering for,
Well,
Five months.
I don't know how to explain it
Looking into your eyes makes me feel secure,
Hearing your voice puts me at ease.
I don't know what it is
I don't believe in soul mates
I don't believe in forever
That's what I used to think
My entire outlook on life has changed
Positive things stand out greater than the negatives
Small gestures now mean so much to me
I'm more grateful and appreciative for what I have
Life has improved so much
All because of you
There are a lot of things that I would not be able to enjoy
Had I not met you
Going on adventures at the beach and at parks,
Laughing together at seemingly stupid jokes and puns,
Making and eating good food,
Even mundane things like windowshopping
Have been turned into fun days that I look forward to,
And look back on fondly
Because you were there with me
I can look back on these past five months and think one word:
"Yes"
I love you so much
And I want the whole world to know it
Happy five months,
Even though I'm kind of a day late
(That's because I was with you yesterday)

Hey my love, let’s build something here
where the sun still shines and our hearts are clear,
and the bees are humming our favorite songs;
and I woke up this morning and where you should be
I saw hope and I kissed it hello because
I’ve always had so many missing parts
and I only now see that the spaces are holy
and they are where you echo and I will be explored
every day with your sweet apple hands.

We are black fingered spiders spinning gold webs
and we won’t settle for catching houseflies, darling,
we only want butterflies and blue stars
and I could sit here and count the ways
that you make my lips and my feet go numb
but I don’t want to waste any seconds that
might be making sparks, and when you’re this close
my bones are air and the ink on my tongue tastes sweet, not bitter,
and I would bottle this love if I could
and get drunk on it every night when you’re gone,
sipping it in the dark in the empty libraries beneath my feet,
whispering to the quiet books, telling them everything
about the thunder that our hands can make
and every day I wait to find out if I am still steady and hard
and lined with the stinging dust of pride.

You are peace like the way blankets fold,
the way falling leaves seem to be flying,
and you are every star in the sky
no matter where my feet are buried in the earth’s bones,
and just like that I am never lost and we are sailors,
lone and drifting and singing and this warm sea is ours
and I think it’s time we dive a little deep,
I think it’s time we burn this house down
and write about the dreams we see in the flames.
You are gravity and sense and the way a magnet feels north
and the way my feet kiss and ground and you are the reason
I spend hours talking with the birds about the way it feels to fly.

Sadly , most of the kibitzers are the houseflies sticking randomly to anyone unlike a few who genuinely drown in the worries of others.