I Don’t Know Why She Swallowed The Fly

IMG_4709What with the start of school and family visitors and enjoying a Danish Indian summer (forget Winterfell, Danish winter is coming….), I haven’t had time to sit down and write anything new in a while.  There are plenty of ideas on the back burner, plenty of sentences simmering away, a few buns of thought in the oven.  But this is something a little new.  A little stop-gap, if you will.

This summer I sifted and lifted and sorted through a decent sized box of old writing, some of which I lugged back across the Atlantic Ocean with me to see if there was anything worth up-cycling, worth saving, worth picking through and keeping.   There were binders of poetry in there.  A lot of it angry, a lot of it bleak, a lot of it forlorn.  A lot of it crap.  But there were a few in there that made me laugh, including the one below.  Especially in light of the fact that it was probably written when I was in my twenties.  Long before pork rage and chin hairs and night sweats.  I hope it makes you laugh too.

I Dont’ Know Why She Swallowed The Fly

I wonder if I will be an old woman with

crimson peaked inch thick blood red Avon lips

six cats twelve hats fragile Oh-Don’t-Fail-Me hips with

children scattered husband dead

just can’t wait to get to bed

monthly checks weekly calls

“Mom, watch the stairs!  Watch for falls!”

discount tickets bingo games

“Why can’t I remember all their names?”

cooking dinners just for one

afraid of getting too much sun

lonely bored afraid of the dark

feeding swans inside the park

oh God renew my faith go to mass

“How quickly all the years did pass!”

confess my sins take my pill

see the doctors write my will

miss the kids miss the friends

Jesus Christ it never ends

bake the homemade apple pie

fuck it I’d rather swallow the fly


16 Comments Add yours

  1. ksbeth says:

    love this and i’m glad you dug it out and shared it with the world )


    1. dhonour says:

      Thanks! Getting older is a lot better than I thought it would be though. Youth really is wasted on the young….


  2. Oh my! This does give a good insight into what it all comes down to, I’m about halfway there on your list.


    1. dhonour says:

      I’m fast approaching several of those myself….it’s a lot better than I thought it would be though.


  3. Lorem Ipsum says:

    Haha, and now I know why she swallowed a fly; it certainly does make a lot more sense when you put it like that! Still, might I recommend a few refreshing spiked lemonades, by way of a chaser…


    1. dhonour says:

      That’s the funny thing. When you are 20 something, getting older seems so far away and scary. Then you get a little closer and you think, wait,life is even better–I don’t want to swallow the fly, I want to drink spiked lemonade!


  4. Wow – what an old soul that twenty something had. I love the rhythms. Any more poems in that magic box of yours?


    1. dhonour says:

      Oh plenty. Lots of angry feminista stuff. Some lovely love poems. Some angst ridden dark Force stuff. Will have to see what’s appropriate!


  5. Twindaddy says:



    1. dhonour says:

      (Evil laugh goes here)


  6. I was chuckling…oh, wait, was it recognition? Well, maybe an item or three…


    1. dhonour says:

      Well, 20+ years down the line I am recognizing a few of those as well!


    1. dhonour says:

      Like a beer on a hot Sunday kind of refreshing?


      1. lexborgia says:

        No. Like me having a champagne brunch with five beautiful laughing women refreshing, inside, in a comfy livingroom.


      2. dhonour says:

        You know that we don’t really have pillow fights, right? 😉


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