In the corner,
behind the ironing board I never get around to use,
in the kitchen long legged dipterous beings sit.
They are so lightweight
that the slightest flow of summer air makes them sway
in perfect symmetry, like anorexic women
doing sit ups in the hope of getting slimmer still,
while the wicked mirror in their mind
tells them that they are too fat.
No, I won’t use insecticide
which makes me think of the horror of gas chambers,
instead I pick them up,
one by one and put them on the window ledge,
they may survive if they are undetected,
by greedy sparrows,
make it down the wall
and into the woodshed!
ME! I wash my hands,
I didn’t kill them.