YOLO= the fast life of a fruit fly

a poem by:  jennifer


a glass of wine....
   poured at 8:00
still untouched at 8:45

one might think it intentional

let it breathe

or, maybe...
  things got
   a  bit hot and heavy...
    forgotten until it is upended by a flailing limb
during loves passionate embrace.

but no.  very much no.

i do not live like the fruit fly.

0.3 years

a life that revolves on wine and sex.

and yet, as i gaze...
  into  my wine glass
at 8:55

i find myself curious  as to what life would be like
  only to...

er....

mate.

and then die.

by drowning 
  in a glass of cabernet sauvignon.

because the reason the glass was here for the taking
by the fast living insect now dead

was because of the:
     laundry
            dishes
                   bad dreams
                            tapeworm in the kitten
                                         
while the wine is forgotten

               by me.


cheers!