For Heaven's Sake

Two annonymous creatures
must have heard it wrong,
Be fruit flies and multiply,
and so they set to breeding
untold masses bent on feeding
off the wounded apple, swarms
of them enveloping the figs.

Before the namer could spit out
the syllables of drosophila,
four generations born and
five more on the way.
Not quite a plague but
a damned nuisance, a cloud
thundering through the day.

Copyright © 2005 Anne Ward Jamieson All rights reserved
from The MacGuffin
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission