Under a magnifying glass I observed an extraordinary flea,
it was dressed as a lumberjack, chopping down a tree.
It got into a rhythm and many trees were felled with its axe,
at dusk it’s day was over, and made it’s way down the track.
I followed it through the forest with my magnifying glass,
it came to a cottage, got out the mower and cut the grass.
When it had finished it went inside and turned on the light,
at ten the light went out and someone said, “Goodnight.”
Orlando Belo
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-flea-3/
