Bluebottle
Why do you taunt me so?
Unclean fiend!
Your buzz curdles my blood.
Scavenger of bins,
fermented fruit your dish.
You hover like a helicopter.
Miniature alien
on the circumference of my plate,
no other insect repulses my belly like you.
Hard to imagine you are in the category
of dragon fly
and cabbage white.
A Scarab makes a stunning brooch for an Egyptian lady,
an ant petrified in amber has its charm
but you…
spoil expensive garden parties on Kensington lawns.
No lepidopterist would have you
in a frame above their hearth.
The only one to chase you
is the chef with Chaindrite can
the waitress
or perhaps the dustbin man.
Blinked off pony’s lashes,
flicked by tails,
swatted by the Oxford Times,
The Mail.
Who thought up a thing
so impossible to love?
