There was an old man who ingested a fly;
That’s hard to figure, but I think I know why.
His mouth was quite large and rudely agape,
Then closed on a fly, foreclosing escape.
There may be a fly in him, poor guy,
But there ain’t no flies in me, here’s why:
I keep my trap hermetically shut,
Barring entry to gullet and gut.
Now I’m living proof “a closed mouth gathers no flies.”
It also prevents the mouthing of bold-faced lies,
With the further plus that it gathers no foot,
Heading off embarrassing vocal output.