Come all females to the glass of vinegar
I have prepared for you. The sour scents
compel your tiny wills. A drop of detergent
breaks the surface tension. Oh come and mar
the pure red wine gone bad.
Anoint your six legs with ruby amber,
and be still in redness closed around red
eyes. Look how her meticulously groomed wings stir
the trap while she drowns. She dies and has no brood.
If she and hers were left for a year, they could
breed a ball of flies to fill the gulf
between the earth and sun. Daughters of filth,
I love your fecund beauty, your delicate intractability.
But roost in my home and I will slaughter you in humility.