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.