There she sat, on the plate,
My gorgeous burger in all her splendor
With ketchup rivers and pickle valleys.
As I eyed her beauty,
Ready to inhale her delectable glory,
I clamped her in my hands,
Opened my watering mouth,
Shut my eyes, preparing for impact and . . .

Bzzzzzz

My lids sling-shot into the back of my head.
I looked into the eyes of a microscopic maniac,
With his legs, dressed in disease
As they danced on top of the seeded bun.
His “buzz” sounded more like laughter,
Mocking me as he tainted my edible art.
Then, he flew away,
Most likely stealing a piece of my now violated burger.

I took my raggedy old spatula,
A black plastic hammer.
I listened for the choir of drones in the empty air until . . .

He landed on the table.
And jumped around, not sure
Which scrumptious delight he would molest next.

I breathed in.
No mercy, no hesitation.
I breathed out.

WHACK!

No burger is forgotten and no fly is shown mercy.