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After She Heard the Fly Buzz -- When She Died
"The romanticist is generally characterized by a deepened appreciation of the beauties of nature --
at times an appreciation so deepened it hits bone."
-- a Realist of an appreciation rather reserved
*
The window being open wide at twilight in the spring,
a scent of rotting meat with yet a fruity undertone
a fly had full enticed to land upon a signet ring
and eat the flesh decaying round a little finger's bone.
*
a dedication of Respect
for
not telling the Truth
slant
a revolving helios rhyme menippean satire on
Nature's cordiality
march, 2023 -- yet hosts untold of maggots
crapulous on the cordial of countless corpses and carcasses
at times an appreciation so deepened it hits bone."
-- a Realist of an appreciation rather reserved
*
The window being open wide at twilight in the spring,
a scent of rotting meat with yet a fruity undertone
a fly had full enticed to land upon a signet ring
and eat the flesh decaying round a little finger's bone.
*
a dedication of Respect
for
not telling the Truth
slant
a revolving helios rhyme menippean satire on
Nature's cordiality
march, 2023 -- yet hosts untold of maggots
crapulous on the cordial of countless corpses and carcasses
Published 14th Mar 2023
| Edited 16th Mar 2023
Author's Note
Nature, Reality, Horror, Dying, Pain, Suffering, Death, Rot
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
14th Mar 2023 10:45pm
Reminds me of a job I had many years ago which had me dishwashing in a commercial kitchen one summer. When strolling through the concourse one sunny morning on my way to clock in, I noticed a few empty stainless steel serving pan racks which had been left outside. They were empty, except for a few toward the top of one rack, and one of those in particular had some small white grains of whatever occasionally dropping over the side of the pan in a writhingly telltale way.
Turns out someone left the racks out after a catered outdoor event and didn't manage to dispose of the lingering pan of sliced roast beef, which had converted into a two inch deep roiling green pond of maggots.
I fetched a shovel and buried the whole mess off in the woods.
True story.
Post script;
that opening quote for your poem is priceless!
Turns out someone left the racks out after a catered outdoor event and didn't manage to dispose of the lingering pan of sliced roast beef, which had converted into a two inch deep roiling green pond of maggots.
I fetched a shovel and buried the whole mess off in the woods.
True story.
Post script;
that opening quote for your poem is priceless!
