Flies

Nicky brought French bread, pate

and bars of chocolate. I carried my six-pack

of Stella and The Myth Of Sisyphus, 

in case the conversation fell flat,

but which came in handy to swat

the seemingly Biblical swarm

of flies, on our food, our flesh

and my brand new fedora.

That’s very fitting, she said, almost

artistic, swatting those poor flies

with The Myth Of Sisyphus, like pushing 

a rock uphill for ever and ever.

I took a swig of beer, then recommenced

the slaughter. So many flies! I should’ve come

with my whole Camus collection, The Outsider, 

The Plague, The Fall, A Happy Death. 

Very droll, she replied, did you know

that flies perform important functions?

Without flies there’d be no beer or chocolate

and the world would be teeming

with rubbish and dead bodies.

It’s looking like that already, I laughed,

we’ll need more flies to come along

and clear up this mess, then I’ll have to start

swatting them… and eventually, she added,

you’ll run out of beer and chocolate.