Flies

 

Flies

 

He woke up one morning

To find that everything he touched

Turned into flies

His fridge, a buzzing tower

The toilet seat, shifting

Tiny insects supporting his weight

The water from the tap

Became an angry swarm

Of translucent wings

He decided to leave the tap on

To fill all the world with

The things he hated

To watch everything drown

All the buses and paving stones

And people pushing prams, and

Leafless trees

The wretched sunrise smeared across the sky

The young lovers clasped together

All became flies.

 


 

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