he calls me Jenny Fly
I buzz around from room to room,
he hears the padding of my feet on the stairs,
the kitchen, downstairs, he hold his ears.
I understand flies.
I know their buzzing ways,
I know their evasive maneuvers,
I know they can't fly with wet wings.
he may laugh at my silly ideas
of chasing flies with a water spray bottle
in hand, but only I am killing flies
no matter how many times he
grabs the fly swatter, or Bella lunges
across the room
I am the Great Fly Catcher.