inside my soup cup, a fly swims the backstroke,
dives from the spoon to my tongue and I choke
scream as the porcelain saucer tossed broke
and out from the waitress's eyes rises smoke
chef bombs me with eggs, curls drip yellow yolk
run as he yells slobbering ~ this cook may stroke.
a guy on a bicycle falls breaking a wheel spoke,
the busboy laughs at him - the man sees no joke
red bloodshot eyes rage - he ***** slaps the bloke
pile-drives and jabs with the three stooges poke.
dogs trailing cats chasing toads in a stereo croak
stop to mark the ground but the busboy they soak
standing as the hostess throws a bottle of coke
she pegs his forehead and ricocheted glass broke
seeing the ice for his lump I jump up - then spoke
of the green head flies in the cubes gag and choke
chaos erupts - a food fight hits and flying dishes broke
police cars roll, folks scatter and I duck behind an oak.
a play on 'what's that fly doing in my soup'