FLIES
Wherein the reader is instructed in certain mysteries. He acquainteth himself with the multiple personages of the little drama.
Ourkitchen’s full of flies an’ things,A billion very near,And though they’re tantalizin’ things,At times they’re tantalizin’ things,They give it atmosphere.A kitchen is more kitchy whenThe flies are everywhere,And work goes on less hitchy when,A hundred times less hitchy whenThere’s music in the air.When chilly their stupidityIs really quite a deal,They like the mild humidity,They much prefer humidity,It helps them uncongeal.
Ourkitchen’s full of flies an’ things,A billion very near,And though they’re tantalizin’ things,At times they’re tantalizin’ things,They give it atmosphere.A kitchen is more kitchy whenThe flies are everywhere,And work goes on less hitchy when,A hundred times less hitchy whenThere’s music in the air.When chilly their stupidityIs really quite a deal,They like the mild humidity,They much prefer humidity,It helps them uncongeal.
Ourkitchen’s full of flies an’ things,A billion very near,And though they’re tantalizin’ things,At times they’re tantalizin’ things,They give it atmosphere.A kitchen is more kitchy whenThe flies are everywhere,And work goes on less hitchy when,A hundred times less hitchy whenThere’s music in the air.When chilly their stupidityIs really quite a deal,They like the mild humidity,They much prefer humidity,It helps them uncongeal.
With the advent of day a new life dawns—there is bustle and activity and all the ether is jubilant with praise.
It’s then they totter ’round a bitAnd gradually relax,Their wings begin to sound a bit,To sizz and sing and sound a bitAbaft their beady backs.Anon the whole communityIs pulsing through the void,Each purrs his little tunityHis titillating tunityWith pleasure unalloyed.Some for the unwashed dishes steer,They joy to congregateWhere fragmentary fishes smear.Where frequent flecks of fishes smearThe surface of a plate.
It’s then they totter ’round a bitAnd gradually relax,Their wings begin to sound a bit,To sizz and sing and sound a bitAbaft their beady backs.Anon the whole communityIs pulsing through the void,Each purrs his little tunityHis titillating tunityWith pleasure unalloyed.Some for the unwashed dishes steer,They joy to congregateWhere fragmentary fishes smear.Where frequent flecks of fishes smearThe surface of a plate.
It’s then they totter ’round a bitAnd gradually relax,Their wings begin to sound a bit,To sizz and sing and sound a bitAbaft their beady backs.Anon the whole communityIs pulsing through the void,Each purrs his little tunityHis titillating tunityWith pleasure unalloyed.Some for the unwashed dishes steer,They joy to congregateWhere fragmentary fishes smear.Where frequent flecks of fishes smearThe surface of a plate.
After bodily comfort and satiety a care-free spirit fireth their souls to further conquest.
And how they love to wallow inA bowl of batter, ohHow they do love to swallow in,To sip and sup and swallow inThose drippy dabs of dough.They’re happy and go-lucky andThey’re irresponsible,They’ve predilections mucky and,Most mushy-mush and mucky andThey gorge until they’re full.Betimes they gallivanting goTo forage where they may,With buzzy minors chanting low,With chirpy chirrups chanting low,They drone a roundelay.
And how they love to wallow inA bowl of batter, ohHow they do love to swallow in,To sip and sup and swallow inThose drippy dabs of dough.They’re happy and go-lucky andThey’re irresponsible,They’ve predilections mucky and,Most mushy-mush and mucky andThey gorge until they’re full.Betimes they gallivanting goTo forage where they may,With buzzy minors chanting low,With chirpy chirrups chanting low,They drone a roundelay.
And how they love to wallow inA bowl of batter, ohHow they do love to swallow in,To sip and sup and swallow inThose drippy dabs of dough.They’re happy and go-lucky andThey’re irresponsible,They’ve predilections mucky and,Most mushy-mush and mucky andThey gorge until they’re full.Betimes they gallivanting goTo forage where they may,With buzzy minors chanting low,With chirpy chirrups chanting low,They drone a roundelay.
Imbued with an inherent love of cleanliness, their antiseptic endeavors are pursued with almost a religious fervor.
When one is very fortunateHe summons with his hums,With thrumming most importunate,Impatiently importunate,His gummy little chums.But when they’ve slaked their appetitesThey pause a while becauseThe stuffed and wheezy happy mites,The puffed and greasy happy mitesDesire to dry their paws.They rub their front ones violently,They rub them to the tips,They rub them very silently,They slip and slide them silentlyUntil they’re dry as chips.
When one is very fortunateHe summons with his hums,With thrumming most importunate,Impatiently importunate,His gummy little chums.But when they’ve slaked their appetitesThey pause a while becauseThe stuffed and wheezy happy mites,The puffed and greasy happy mitesDesire to dry their paws.They rub their front ones violently,They rub them to the tips,They rub them very silently,They slip and slide them silentlyUntil they’re dry as chips.
When one is very fortunateHe summons with his hums,With thrumming most importunate,Impatiently importunate,His gummy little chums.But when they’ve slaked their appetitesThey pause a while becauseThe stuffed and wheezy happy mites,The puffed and greasy happy mitesDesire to dry their paws.They rub their front ones violently,They rub them to the tips,They rub them very silently,They slip and slide them silentlyUntil they’re dry as chips.
How love of family together with a wholesome disposition for outdoor sports, tendeth to produce the ideal citizen.
In manner quite identical,They manicure with stressEach tiny, hinder tentacle,Each sticky, tickly tentacleThat’s draggled through the mess.They’re fond of domesticityAnd always striving toFacilitate felicity,A frolicsome felicity,As all good flies should do.Their games are often nautical,They dearly love to plungeIn milk-bowl depths aquatical,In quivery depths aquaticalWith lacteal lurch and lunge.
In manner quite identical,They manicure with stressEach tiny, hinder tentacle,Each sticky, tickly tentacleThat’s draggled through the mess.They’re fond of domesticityAnd always striving toFacilitate felicity,A frolicsome felicity,As all good flies should do.Their games are often nautical,They dearly love to plungeIn milk-bowl depths aquatical,In quivery depths aquaticalWith lacteal lurch and lunge.
In manner quite identical,They manicure with stressEach tiny, hinder tentacle,Each sticky, tickly tentacleThat’s draggled through the mess.They’re fond of domesticityAnd always striving toFacilitate felicity,A frolicsome felicity,As all good flies should do.Their games are often nautical,They dearly love to plungeIn milk-bowl depths aquatical,In quivery depths aquaticalWith lacteal lurch and lunge.
A wanton spirit of recklessness worketh dire mischief.
But when the cream is thick enoughThey dance along the top,Their dancing must be quick enough,Alert and spick and quick enough,Forestalling any stop;In which eventualityTheir limbs are soon involvedIn struggling with mortality,With miry, moist mortalityUntil they’re quite dissolved.And thus a woeful paucityOf wits within their pates,May, with their curiosity,Their curbless curiosity,Precipitate dire straits.
But when the cream is thick enoughThey dance along the top,Their dancing must be quick enough,Alert and spick and quick enough,Forestalling any stop;In which eventualityTheir limbs are soon involvedIn struggling with mortality,With miry, moist mortalityUntil they’re quite dissolved.And thus a woeful paucityOf wits within their pates,May, with their curiosity,Their curbless curiosity,Precipitate dire straits.
But when the cream is thick enoughThey dance along the top,Their dancing must be quick enough,Alert and spick and quick enough,Forestalling any stop;In which eventualityTheir limbs are soon involvedIn struggling with mortality,With miry, moist mortalityUntil they’re quite dissolved.And thus a woeful paucityOf wits within their pates,May, with their curiosity,Their curbless curiosity,Precipitate dire straits.
How one who lacketh the art of divination yet abounding in a foolish optimism, may unwarily enter into the very jaws of destruction.
For instance they’ll go hoveringWith lack-wit dawdling drone,And near without discovering,Detecting or discoveringA lurking danger zone.Their kinsmen multifariousAre strewn upon a sheetIn poses strange and various,Vituperative, various,With upturned toes and feet.They read in big, black typing there“USE TANGLE-FOOT FOR FLIES,”They see their comrades griping there,Grimacing, gripping, griping there,And yet they don’t get wise.
For instance they’ll go hoveringWith lack-wit dawdling drone,And near without discovering,Detecting or discoveringA lurking danger zone.Their kinsmen multifariousAre strewn upon a sheetIn poses strange and various,Vituperative, various,With upturned toes and feet.They read in big, black typing there“USE TANGLE-FOOT FOR FLIES,”They see their comrades griping there,Grimacing, gripping, griping there,And yet they don’t get wise.
For instance they’ll go hoveringWith lack-wit dawdling drone,And near without discovering,Detecting or discoveringA lurking danger zone.Their kinsmen multifariousAre strewn upon a sheetIn poses strange and various,Vituperative, various,With upturned toes and feet.They read in big, black typing there“USE TANGLE-FOOT FOR FLIES,”They see their comrades griping there,Grimacing, gripping, griping there,And yet they don’t get wise.
With unavailing penitence they rue the day of woe and reckoning. Death and destruction hold the stage—the curtain falls.
And they that were so cheerupy,Who flew the air so free,Now on that surface syrupy,So sinister and syrupy,Bemoan their misery.They kick with motions panickyUntil they’ve quite unlatchedTheir divers parts organicky,Orchestral and organicky,With feet and legs detached.Until most penitentiallyWith slow surcease of toils,Their souls float out eventually,Evacuate eventually,Their mangled mortal coils.
And they that were so cheerupy,Who flew the air so free,Now on that surface syrupy,So sinister and syrupy,Bemoan their misery.They kick with motions panickyUntil they’ve quite unlatchedTheir divers parts organicky,Orchestral and organicky,With feet and legs detached.Until most penitentiallyWith slow surcease of toils,Their souls float out eventually,Evacuate eventually,Their mangled mortal coils.
And they that were so cheerupy,Who flew the air so free,Now on that surface syrupy,So sinister and syrupy,Bemoan their misery.They kick with motions panickyUntil they’ve quite unlatchedTheir divers parts organicky,Orchestral and organicky,With feet and legs detached.Until most penitentiallyWith slow surcease of toils,Their souls float out eventually,Evacuate eventually,Their mangled mortal coils.
The reader is admonished to a life of gentleness and charity.
And so I’ve tried to tune a verseOr so, to eulogizeOur kitchen’s little universe,Unique, unnumbered universeOf busy, buzzy flies.With measures lilting, lyricalI’ve striven to describeIn ballad panegyrical—In part it’s panegyrical,This much despiséd tribe.And if I’ve touched the heart of you,Oh promise me you’ll tryTo crush that naughty party of you,That pugilistic part of youAnd NEVER swat a fly.
And so I’ve tried to tune a verseOr so, to eulogizeOur kitchen’s little universe,Unique, unnumbered universeOf busy, buzzy flies.With measures lilting, lyricalI’ve striven to describeIn ballad panegyrical—In part it’s panegyrical,This much despiséd tribe.And if I’ve touched the heart of you,Oh promise me you’ll tryTo crush that naughty party of you,That pugilistic part of youAnd NEVER swat a fly.
And so I’ve tried to tune a verseOr so, to eulogizeOur kitchen’s little universe,Unique, unnumbered universeOf busy, buzzy flies.With measures lilting, lyricalI’ve striven to describeIn ballad panegyrical—In part it’s panegyrical,This much despiséd tribe.And if I’ve touched the heart of you,Oh promise me you’ll tryTo crush that naughty party of you,That pugilistic part of youAnd NEVER swat a fly.