“It must be Thursday,” said Arthur to himself, sinking low over his beer, “I never could get the hang of Thursdays.” – Douglas Adams in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
The fan hums hypnotic over at the edge of the room
and a fat fly buzzes back and forth in nonsensical flight
(how can a bug that big fly for so long without ever seeming
to stop to rest its tiny wings?)
clicking of keys and shuffling of pages punctuated
occasionally by the distant ringing of a phone somewhere…
outside, the air is humid and hot
it seems that everything is torpid
and begs for the occupants of this day
to take naps, but we really don’t have the time
to sleep when bulldozers are racing
to destroy your house before
the world implodes.
~~
a bit of feeling lazy combined with a bit of Douglas Adams. Posting this for dVerse OLN
Quest for Whirled Peas 
There is a lethargic sluggishness in that fly… i can almost here it bouncing on the window panes… and those bulldozers seems lazy too in a way as if the only purpose they have is tearing down….
Creatively brilliant and I love this type of writing style. You and I have something in common.
Hope you stop by my page and read my poem. It’s something close to this but weird, dark humor, and funny. 🙂
This was unexpectedly excellent! I was so caught off-guard! A wonderful, rewarding poem! Thanks – Mosk
I never thought of imagining bulldozers coming at the end ~ When the air is hot and humid, I will be feeling lazy too ~
I feel very warm and dozy and lazy now!
watch out for bulldozers. And Vogons. (and if you haven’t already, read “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” or you’ll have no idea what I mean by Vogons)
I’ve seen the TV series here in the UK – loved it. I’m lazing despite the bulldozers. They can go round me! As for the Vogons… 😉
Such an incredible write 😀 have a lovely week ahead.
ha – well the heat does seem to make one lazy and pondering the life of a fly?
One of my favorite books from college – I like where you’ve gone with it. In our minds we often fill the fantasy of summer days with non-stop action, forgetting the realities of heat. When I went to Egypt in December years ago it was 104 degrees in the winter! We had a mania driven tour guide that kept telling us to pick up the pace (4 places to see in one day) and we could sleep when we went home!
Feels so tropical… loved the poem!
I love this brief captured moment. Wonderful.
Wow! Bulldozers ready to implode our world — oh my!
Loved Hitchhiker’s, love your words. Delightfully lethargic, delightfully ponderous.
Anna :o]
Scary and very effective — the way the poem collapses inward at “implodes.”
we really don’t have the time
to sleep when bulldozers are racing
to destroy your house before
the world implodes.
It is a crazy world of strong warmth with the ever sinister specter of the ‘war machine’ waiting to destroy!
Hank
Even the coming of the bulldozers seems lethargic here.
Loved the whole series by Douglas Adams. A pity he didn’t survive the psychological bulldozers. May he rest in peace.
Once (or thrice actually) during my imprisonment as a worker for the state of VA, I was called a Vogon, once by an engineer who met none of the requirements and would not quality no matter what he did for licensure here. he called me a Vogon and I laughed at him and told him to grow up. But anyway, poor Douglas Adams….he was a fine writer and you have done him ample justice in this poem about torpor.