FLY PAPER, METAPHORICALLY

          “For art not thou

          A man like me,

          And am I not

          A fly like thee?”

               --William Blake

 

I brought my poems into your bookstore,

But didn’t know there was a secret code

Of manners in the game you’d have me play:

Monopoly. So I did not pass Go,

And walked away without two hundred bucks.

You blew me off as though I were a fly

Disquieting Le Dejeuner sur l'Herbe.

Though they who have the gold can make the rules,

The men of vision understand a Fly

To be not necessarily the pest

That it may seem, but Human through and through—

A golden Fly! You should have swatted me

When I was in your range. You’ve lost the chance,

Now that I’ve buzzed off from your demesne.