Fly Hors D'oeuvres Poem by Douglas Scotney

Thwarted from the Shortbread and Delta Creams
on the biscuit-tray
in Beverley, S.A.
by a vigilant Queenslander's brush-away,
a fly circumnavigated
and regurgitated and syphoned
what from their lips
was on the rims of my neighbour's cup,
and my neighbour's neighbour's.

Then it gave up.

Amidst the waft of cream
it might have flitted upon
a filling crumb on the floor...
or a poo,
what's to a Queenslander more,
because that
might also have been
its d'oeuvres hors.