Saturday, March 8, 2014

March 8, 2014 The Sunday Whirl/ Bare-Foot


Bare-Foot
I never look at
Or hear
The word ‘jelly’
Without thinking of him
They called him Bare-Foot
A motley man
Lived in the woods
By hisself
His paradise

Kept a jar of open jelly
With a spoon in it
Under the bed
Little Miss talked
About him a lot

I come from a part
Of the country
Where roaches grow
As big as children
Playing in autumn leaves
Red and gold

I always wondered
If for snacks
The roaches
(And Lord knows
What else)
Ate his jelly, too

I don’t know if they
Caught roaches
In the country
But I do know they used
Ant traps
Ceramic saucers
With cups
Put the legs
Of tables and
Cupboards into
The ant traps
Filled with water
So ants couldn’t crawl up

And often
On the table set
A glass contraption
Called a flycatcher
Made of beautiful
Sparkling clear glass
Had an opening
In the bottom
When a fly
Found his way in
He most certainly
Couldn’t fly out

That old fly
Would just take off
And bump into that
Sparkling clear glass
I guess
Just like humans
He would forget
How he got into
This fix in the
First place













13 comments:

Brian Miller said...

interesting....i wonder about this guy and would love to hear his story....and i like how you play him against the fly caught in its own jar...cringing a bit at the thought of taking a bite of jelly and finding a roach in it....errr....

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Cool rememberings, Annell.......I remember those HORRIBLE sticky fly catchers, dangerous if you got your hair too near........yoiks.

kaykuala said...

Alone by hisself he has to give way to a number of things. But compromising on the open jelly bottle is quite risky for health reasons! If only he's more careful. Nicely annell!

Hank

Jae Rose said...

Poor man losing his jelly..we can become a little like flies struggling to get out of our traps..I got completely transported to those woods..

humbird said...

Like the comparison with human...one little turn and we can get in the trouble...

Marian Veverka said...

This kept my interest, your descriptions and how one thing can lead to another, almost felt sorry for the fly!

De Jackson said...

OH! That last line! Fantastic!

Tawnya Smith said...

As De Marche noted, delightful end. Almost too close to home, n'est pas?

Anonymous said...

Your comparison between man and fly is well woven and memorable.

Elizabeth

Belva Rae Staples said...

I guess
Just like humans
He would forget
How he got into
This fix in the
First place

That is the truth!

Sharp Little Pencil said...

Annell, every word of this is wonderful. From living where the roaches grow so big (ironically, I lived in NYC, and the same thing applied. We almost had to give them names...). The solitary man in the woods and ew, the roaches feasting on his jelly!!

We have a flycatcher, too. Also, I invented a roach trap: An old mayo jar, smear a bit of honey just under the top lip. Fill jar halfway with lemonade and White Lightening (I had my sources). Set it out at night. They fall over from the fumes and drown drunk in the booze! Anyway, loved this. Amy

Audrey Howitt aka Divalounger said...

This is just wonderful!

flaubert said...

Annell, nice stroytelling. You have written some very interesting and almost lonely images here. Sorry for the late visit. I am having a tough week, just adjusting to life around me.

Love,
Pamela ox

Not Just A Cup

  Not Just a Cup       Southern born Not a tea drinker Always coffee For me   Although I often find  Bitter taste Of the dark brew A bit muc...