Greenbottle
Pretty fly
With your glowing red eyes
And peacock back,
No wonder the Sumerians
Made jewels of you
Lapis lazuli.
We leap around with flyswats
Lying in wait
For your iridescence to settle.
Is it fair
That we should squish you?
Nature’s undertaker,
You tidy up carcasses
With your catholic palate
You appreciate
All the ooze which makes us squeamish
We think you are the enemy ~
But maybe we should tackle diseases
At their source
Maybe we should respect you
For what you are.
A thing of beauty could be a fly forever.
All that lustre gone,
Body burst open,
Unpacked trunk.
Why should a fly die?
Page(s) 37
magazine list
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- Cannon's Mouth, The
- Chroma
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- Dream Catcher
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- Fabric
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- French Literary Review, The
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- Interpreter's House, The
- Iota
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- Lamport Court
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- Magma
- Matchbox
- Matter
- Modern Poetry in Translation
- Monkey Kettle
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- North, The
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- Obsessed with pipework
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- Painted, spoken
- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
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- Poetry London
- Poetry London (1951)
- Poetry Nation
- Poetry Review, The
- Poetry Salzburg Review
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- Private Tutor
- Purple Patch
- Quarto
- Rain Dog
- Reach Poetry
- Review, The
- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
- Seventh Quarry, The
- Shearsman
- Smiths Knoll
- Smoke
- South
- Staple
- Strange Faeces
- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
- Tolling Elves
- Ugly Tree, The
- Weyfarers
- Wolf, The
- Yellow Crane, The