Flight

White butterflies...? All butterflown.
White fleas as well: well-fled.
The firefly, too, who scaled our flue...?
Callay! Callooh! Laid tread!
     More flies -- a flock (not fake, not mock) --
who flaying forme'ly fear'd,
now face a fit from veils of FLIT.
Pale insect flight's (like) weird.
     Each milky moth seems "at a loth."
Chalk crickets chirp, "We're skeer'd!"
Bleach'd ladybirds...? I lack the words.
In short, all've disappear'd.

"The Home Alone Ranger"
Ulysses Poe
graphite pencil on
copy paper
digitally modified
5" by 7"