You Just Never Know - April 21, 2026

what luck, to be a fly

that sneaks into a house

through an open window

on a spring morning

I lose track of it, sure

the lingering kitchen odors

will lure it there to land

on sticky spills or crumbs,

very sure its eyes will grow

into saucers of pleasure

as it probes and samples

the unique tastes

by late afternoon, as light

from the same opening

beckons it to come home

that window will be closed

the glass becoming

a cruel magic trick,

a confusing barrier

it pushes hard to cross

and our fly will drop

exhausted onto the windowsill

and if it feels hopelessness,

wouldn’t it be very similar

to that moment we’ve all had,

what the hell have I gotten into?