A fat young woman sat reading her graphic novel
(don't you love it that they call comic books graphic novels
nowadays so as not to offend the mongos who read them?)
- apologies apologies I digress from my narrative I fear -
her eyes followed the words slowly one by one
and her lips very visibly mouthed each syllable
as though such a pathetic process might help the meaning
to sink in at least partially to her poor addled half-educated wits
(in case you haven't worked it out by now I should explain
she was a bit stupid in fact much thicker than two short planks,
but I suppose that's an unkind thing to say really
but what the hell this is ******* free thought association
and stream of ******* consciousness isn't it?)

Bearing in mind that the poor fat cow had a brain
only marginally more adroit than a bluebottle's
she was doing quite well as she had after all
reached as far as page five after only two hours
when something marginally untoward occurred
as she suddenly felt a nasty pain in her tummy
and in some atavistic sort of way that realised she was on
the verge of having a miscarriage which was quite
a shock bearing in mind she didn't even know
she was seven months pregnant at the time
having been unable to read the birds and bees manual
she had been given as a present by her mummy.

But it was just as well taking everything into consideration
bearing in mind she was unmarried (surprise! surprise!)
and had no idea who the father might have been
as (how oh how can I put this delicately?)
she was totally the village bicycle having been ridden by everyone
including most of the teachers at the ******* folks home
where she lived in some squalor at state expense
but never mind as all's well that ends well
as her staggeringly brutal low-iq daddy would have killed her
for bringing shame on the family escutcheon
and because the downturn in the economy
meant that there was a three month wait for a bed
in the nearest mongo maternity ward
so she just kept on reading and would you believe it
she had reached page seven by the time
it was all over apart from the mess on the upholstery.

hello bluebottle
sitting atop my canvas
shifting all around
what do your two red eyes spy
can you see me staring back
and what are you waiting for
all alone high above me
fidgeting and impatient
but of course you are quite right
to be so very careful
for that is a newspaper
rolled up in my hand

Rock me to sleep crickets
with your grand night song.
The ones,
that makes stars shine
and moon radiate.
The ones
that gives peaceful dreams
a chance to root.

Take me
in your arms
oh lullaby,
so I may drift in sleep,
to vision sunshine days.

Rock me,
as night evolves to day
and light breeze
moves through window pane.

Gryllidaes,
small but loud.
Wrap my ears
with your musical berceuse.

The ones
that tickles inner ear
to match hearts warble.
The one’s
that play an original masterpiece
all its own.

Bluebottle of night
play on
like fine musician,
as I whisper smile.

As I,
drift
in world of sleep
with your blankets song
and my grateful heart.


StarBG © 2017

Flying over you, buzzing like crazy
Sitting over your nose, are you that lazy
Why do you not make me go away?
Why every of my mate has their own way?
I am sure you gonna spray us to ****
But you laying on the floor covered in blood spill
Your breath seems long gone
The night does no good as now we hit the dawn
The rotting smell of the blood on you
Attracts most of us insects not just few
Your open mouth has given entry for new
The ants lingering in your wide open eyes
Many races of insects feed, especially the flies
A thief had to die, one day
I'm sitting high looking at your body today
How aimless, humans are to **** each other
We are better despite abandoned by our mother
It was your fate you met few days ago here
No one is searching for, nobody knows you dead here
As rigamortis has taken its place upon you
It's obvious, we gonna hunt and feed on you
We only show up on such occasion
And deal with the dead bodies with passion
We come uninvited when someone dies
Yes, we are the bluebottle flies...


©sim