Flies. Buzz and zing like the saw in the mill,
cutting freshly sliced trunks.
The smell of sawdust always makes you sneeze.
Now the flies buzz around your head
as you sit in your silver chair and snore.
Crickets chirping couldn't be more annoying,
but to a fly and me, the sweet vibrato
of your ins and outs make little bass sensors bounce.
Don't let them worship you too long,
they will see your flesh and realize you aren't a god.
I see you well.
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