this is the season for flies
around my house the little ones

and I haven't done the dishes in three days
depressed again
again but
the funky fucking flies
love sweet smells
as old coffee with sugarcream sweetness.

I have got rid of them.

This is far from the worst poem ever written. In fact, I like it.

But I don't get the last line. It seems like an add-on, and contradicts the preceding lines.

Hugh, the flies fly into the sweet drink and commit suicide. I had actually gotton rid of most of my flying insect problem by the coffee! Can you help me think of a better way to express this?

Ok..I get it. Originally, I thought they were attracted by the sweetness and just flew around and annoyed people.

I am probably just dense..but if you want to consider an alternative, how about..

the funky fucking flies
drown for sweet smells
of old coffee with sugarcream sweetness.

this is the season for flies
around my house the little ones

and I haven't done the dishes in three days
depressed again
again but
the funky fucking flies
love sweet smells
as old coffee with sugarcream sweetness.
as empty dessert bowl with liquid ice cream.
as chocolate shake with the sticky empty bottom
of the glass also sitting
in the sweet smelly sink.
Flies make super-bomber dives,
so despite, or because of my best chocolate despair attack,
I managed to get rid of them.

This is the season for flies,
around my house, the little ones.

I haven't done the dishes in three days,
depressed again, funky fucking flies
love sweet smells like old coffee with
sugar cream sweetness;
they snuff an empty dessert
bowl for liquid ice cream.

They love the emptiness;
empty bottles of chocolate shake,
stuck to the bottom of the sink.
Flies make supper-bomber dives,
so despite, but because of my best
chocolate despair attack,
I managed to get rid of them.

How's this? Sorry, I hardly ever help in the forums anymore.

lol you cold blooded fly killah , jk .it was a good read but there is a lack of idea.