Ode to the Nocturnal Fly

10/28/21

To the nocturnal fly,
we turn a blind eye.
But your wings match the sky
we owe it to you
that our light cannot pry —
the ever-changing light
for the treacherous hue
of our natural nightly lies.

Piece together our sin,
o’ honest fly!
And together we shall win!
Until our untimely demise.

Fortune stance has it in the books
that market-beings grab for tooks
our prejudice we hold so dear —
comfortability — the only fear.

Would King Lear shout my name?
Am I not insane?
Am I not insane!
They said I to blame.
Cause we can’t see the lights
or it’s afternoon delight
but instead the truth
a stance, a sleuth.