Glass I

It was transparent

Vinegar streaks from windowlene

Buffed to invisibility. Pristine

Clean windows. And the small fly

Shook it's wings with all its force

And drummed the pane in all recourse

But not without remorse

It was transparent

Clear. It could not pass.

The fly could see the rotting mass beyond

Could see the rubbish strewn about the public

Street. All the shit it could ever eat.

The fly could see it

It was transparent.

And if it called a million friends

They could not find a pass.

To show them shit and still pretend

A fly can force the glass.

It didn't have glass cutter

Later. I found a dry dead fly

On the sill in dust and clutter.