One Fruit Fly Means Many Fruit Flies

La da dee.
It’s time to clean.

La da dee.
I’m cleaning.

La da dee.
I’m in the kitchen
taking out the garbage.

A glance:

An edible-looking kiwi.
Why did I throw it away?
Its shell is intact
but if you press it,
you can feel
the mushy insides.
Imagine squeezing it.

A banana peel lays there,
its insides taken a while ago,
most likely by me, the culprit,
with black blots as if it were
a rotting corpse.

Ground coffee sprinkles
the top of the heap,
fallen this morning,
like snow on a mountain.

Somewhere else in the world,
you can look at the same thing
and zoom out to find
acres of a landfill.

La da dee.
I’m cleaning.

A fruit fly
hovers around.

I nearly dropped the garbage onto the floor
for a chance to clap my hands together
and flatten the pest in between.

I thought about the virus
going around in the world.
One sick person means
many sick persons.

Spring started two days ago.
One fruit fly means
many fruit flies.

Here to the hope that cleaning
will put a stop to the fruit flies.

La da dee.