little flies
the little flies
are still alive
as the year ends
they don’t understand it
as well as i
but there they are
flying around the apartment
getting drunk
on dregs of leftover wine
the true champions
of climate change
who must want the earth
more than we do
the little flies
are still alive
the carcasses of their
unlucky brethren
littering my bathroom wall
and kitchen cabinets
as the survivors
fly into my nose
circle in my vodka
bounce off the window screen
like lottery balls
waiting for me to open the window
the drunken benevolent emancipator
sending them out to revel
in the unusual warmth
of an early winter fog.
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