the ancient cities of ficulea
cameria, corniculum
fell to roman soldiers
but a house fly killed my mum
i don’t know how, don’t know when
it’s hard to say how come
i wasn’t even there the day
a house fly killed my mum
all I know is how i found her
laid low on the linoleum
hardly a lead or any sign
of the house fly who killed my mum
but for a plastic swat still at the ready
held tight between finger & thumb
as if it might still have it in for
the house fly who killed my mum
now, a more annoying creature
in this world is yet to hum
mocking every hiss & shoo
that house fly who killed my mum
might it have been the evening
the rooms dark as bermuda rum
a lone outside light, an open door
for the house fly who killed my mum?
might it be she tripped & fell
caught her temple plum
& so he made a swift escape
the house fly who killed my mum?
still unarraigned & buzzing free
it may appear strange to some
every finger pointing to
the house fly who killed my mum
so i stand beside a gravestone
motherless & glum
& tell this story to the wind
of the house fly who killed my mum
