1/7/15

David D. Paul

Pest

I broke my nose against a concrete wall
made entirely of thoughtless, weightless,
fruit flies. At first, I tried to reason
with them; I proclaimed,“This is my home,
not yours. There is a world of garbage for you.”
I opened the window as invitation,
transformed the fan into a simulation:
my kitchen as a hurricane.
I clogged the air with sandalwood,
dragon’s blood, pumpkin spice,
bleach—then set the bathroom ablaze
with peppermint oil and watched the smoke decay.
I cinched my garbage bags, trapping at least
a hundred, then tossed them in the dumpster,
where their strangeness
would be compressed.
In the mirror, my tired face was obscured
by pointless, toothless,
poison-filled
fruit flies.

David D. Paul was born in Pittsburgh, but currently lives in Portland, Oregon with his wife, two daughters, and their pet gold fish, Michelangelo (Mikey for short). 

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