I had a problem with flies
Like everything
There always seemed to be
Too many or
Too few
Too much or
Too little
No one ever seemed to say
“This is just the right amount”
Certainly, they never said that
About flies
There were too many
And because people said that
Other people sold traps
Only ten dollars
Which seemed a fair price to pay
Poison-free
Trapped by gravity
Which somehow seemed
More sinister
I bought the trap
Set it up
Thought nothing more about it
Until
To my surprise
I looked outside
And saw how well it worked
I was captivated
Watching
As a fly teetered
On the brink
Of the one-way tunnel
Facing its own destruction
And suddenly I
The one playing
God
The one paying
For traps
Was the one praying
For it to survive
Not all of them
Just this one
I wanted it to survive
Wanted it to realise
That you could escape
If only you trusted yourself
If you ignored the others
Because what you thought
Was a crowd
Was really just a graveyard
That fly sensed it
On the precipice
But chose to trust
The crowd
The mass
The swarm
The dead
And when the next fly came
I didn’t pray for it