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Poem

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Hovering like a gnat that finds a face irresistible
Swatting frantically does no good as
insects will be insects and annoying is part of their plan

As it seems each day you find a new offering unfolding its wings,
buzzing about with your dirty laundry in tow,
as if poetry has become merely a tool to harass

Finding little folders to slide into…highlighting
each word of bin fodder, old but new
hoping for accolades in lemonade fashion

Funny how that works as hatred becomes the norm,
never letting go of that scent that attracts you…
whatever it is about the human aroma you find so pleasing

Perhaps it is that it will never be you,
oh little gnat of negative words seeking only attention,
lost within the deep confines of a posers petals

To ruin our summer fair, our poetic picnic in the sun
cannot happen for you see we are happy
in our own skin, with its wondrous fragrance…unlike you

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Don't you just hate little pests that just fly around annoying people?

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