Flies
All day my mother
Swallows flies
Like some kind of allegory
Of love
My father says
It’s going to be okay
But he’s lied
Since the beginning
To us
And himself
And who knows what
He says to God
Or whoever it is
He talks to
When he socket wrenches the ceiling
In the dead of night
The flies don’t care.
They keep coming,
Quivering on my mother’s lip
Until the rattle sucks them under
©2023 Damon Hubbs All rights reserved.
Damon Hubbs is the author of three chapbooks: Coin Doors & Empires (Alien Buddha Press), The Day Sharks Walk on Land (Alien Buddha Press), and Fly Creek (forthcoming from Naked Cat Publishing). His poems have been featured in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Roi Fainéant Press, Otoliths, APOCALYPSE CONFIDENTIAL, Does It Have Pockets, and elsewhere. He lives in New England.
Twitter: @damon_hubbs