Goodbye to the Fly (Apologies to Fly #2)

Goodbye to the Fly (Apologies to Fly #2)

Oh, fly.
I won't ask why
The root beer float captured
your eye.
And thinking it looked
most delicious
You dove, settled in
but found it inauspicious.
By the time I made my way
over to where you lay,
no longer jumping,
you'd signed out of the fray.
Not wishing to augment
my root beer float with filament,
I poured it down the drain,
a necessary dumping.

Oh, fly.

My apologies.
But at least
your descendants
may have learned
that if a surface
does not seem firm,
it will not support the pendant.
I am sorry that your mistake
resulted in an ending
that we were not intending.
But for your children's sake
Your life stopped, opaqued -
I hope they will appreciate
Your last fly testament.

If there is a lesson
to be gathered
from this tableau,
it is: Rather
pick flylike at toast
than at a root beer float.

Marie Antoinette hung
after having sung
croissants' virtues
to those she thought
talked more than they ought.
She found out, but did not rue
upon leaving,
that the late 18th century detested
her thieving.

Au revoir,
my insect sharer.
No more grieving.
May your next life
come fairer
and without strife.