На волне энтузиазма нашлись старые стихи Тьюлиса. Они мне нравятся.
Fly
Where, and when, and if,
I die
I desire to revisit this filth
As a fly
and on some squalid afternoon
Fly smack into your bathroom,
Small and black,
And crawl all over
Your naked young back.
I know you imagine I'm a sensitive man,
But I'm afraid that's just
The kind of fly
I am.