Flies

I have friends who imitate bugs

with flicks of their wrist

to ensnare beautiful animals

that they are unsure whether

or not to consume

I have no trouble

smashing bugs

vengefully

that enter my apartment

because if I’m going to be alone

I’m going to be alone

damn it

I would much prefer the stillness

of moving water

and fish trickery

to lonely bedroom

and sinks full of dishes

Some nights I hear

what can only be gunshots

and see the faces of my friends

frozen and pale

laying on the sidewalk

armpits still moist with sweat

and think

they may as well be dead

if they aren’t here

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