Analysis of Musca domestica

That little fucker's tempting fate,
Buzzing, hovering around my face,
I've gently shooed the thing off,
But the shit thinks he's tough,
It's starting to stoke some hate.

With each passing moment, my ire grew,
At that pesky fly and the rest of its crew,
I clenched my fists tight,
And prepared for the fight,
But that fly just buzzed on, as if it knew.

I tried swatting it with all my might,
But it dodged and weaved, out of sight,
Returning when my guard was down,
So when it finally landed, I frowned,
And slapped my own face before it took flight.