I see you half asleep.
The flies are hovering
over your untouched
drink, and if they take
a dip they will join you
in your intoxicated dream.
I see you had enough.
You did not drink it all.
The flies are thirsty for
what you left for them.
There is no food, not one
crumb in your liquid diet.
The music is blaring,
some heavy metal and
fast paced drumming.
The flies are dizzy, some
got in an out, those that
took the plunge have died.
took the plunge have died.
Luis was born in Mexico, lives in California, and works in the mental health
field in Los Angeles, CA. His poems have appeared in Ariel Chart, Beatnik Cowboy,
Dope Fiend Daily, Unlikely Stories, and Zygote In My Coffee.
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