All that kamikaze bumping
and buzzing up against
the siding, the window,
not to mention the near misses,
you'd think it was blind arrogance
on the wing, and sure as hell
it's something like that: horsefly,
the summer evening deck disturber!
Nothing sexist, mind you,
(Mother Nature's way, after all)
but it has to be a blood-sucking female,
the male elsewhere, partying down
vegan style, scoring some pollen.
And me, I'm just trying
to finish a book, drink some tea,
though now my brain is a dark headline:
Swatter Ace Makes Mid-Air Kill
Roger Pfingston is a retired teacher of English and photography.
His poems have appeared recently in Kaleidowhirl, Mannequin Envy, and
two anthologies from Iowa Press: Say This of Horses and 75 Poems on Retirement. Another horse poem is scheduled to appear in Cadence of Hooves: A Celebration of Horses from Yarroway Mountain Press. His most recent chapbooks are Singing to the Garden from Parallel Press and Earthbound from Pudding House Publications.
