Coffee Break, #1

Vermin fly,

nestling into the stale remains of your brothers,

and tracking yourself all over my doughnut.

Begone!

You ill-mannered son of a she-fly.     

                                 Coffee Break #2

The fly,

  twizzling his tastebuds,

as flighty as a twelve year old girl

  on the beach with the boys.

pausing only to scrape his front legs,

  and then backing off,

    and flying away.

Once in a while hopping on or being hopped upon

  by another fly and doing what,

then scratching his hind legs and flying off again.

  Just a fly being a fly.

                            Coffee Break #3

Four times the fly

that was one half her size

attempted to jump her and fly,

but might as he try,

the poor little guy

Scurry, scurry, stop.

Rub your legs together briskly.

Walk a bit and fly.

Stop and fly again.

Stop and scrape the wings and legs

and ruffle up and look around and fly.

Check the other out for just a stab

and fly again

and stop and fly and stop and fly.

Scamper there and there, then stop.

Stand aware.

Start again.

Then stop.

Whap!

                                                Flies

They won’t relax.

You swing your arm,

Your hand just hits your head.

They fly away,

But soon come back

In numbers if you’re dead.