poem of the day 08.12.09

dead flies

dead flies
lay in window gutters
as i drink a scotch
in ninety degree heat
dead flies
they lay there
three of them in one window
and two in the other
as the cats sleep
on the hardwood floor
and i read a newspaper
that is three days old
dead flies
lay upturned
their blood colored eyes
staring blankly into my face
as i eat an ice cube
and worry about
the electric bill
i sweep dead flies
off the floor
and they lay bunched
up with dust balls
and torn paper
some of their wings
missing from their bodies
as i hear laughter
from outside
young women dressed
in only sports bras
and lycra shorts
their tan flesh covered in sweat
their asses round and tight
water bottles at their lips
dead flies
laying in window gutters
while i check the refrigerator
for something to eat
as the ice cubes
crackle in the new glass of scotch
my stomach rumbles
and i realize that it’s not getting
any cooler
any time soon.