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Mer's Fly's Ears

Flies have small ears so you have to speak extra loud

They don’t have ears they pick up vibrations

Maybe it’s like, what is that?

Muriel taps two flat fingers on ledge of table and

nasally phonates dit, dit, dah-dit-

Morse Code

He’s picking up your vibrations in Morse Code!

Mer, flies don’t speak English

But they listen in it!

Maybe your vibrations aren’t in English

How do you know that fly is a he?

He’s not listening

And he just landed on your slice of lemon pie

Amber gasps and rushes to the counter

at the plate supporting her slice

and puts a dismal spin on the delicate dish

which sends the cool frothy sliver to the floor


Then not a breath passes as the girls

watch the small circle progressing

in ravenous aerials eating up the counter space

as it travels and stops halfway on the ledge and halfway off

Amber snatches it with grievous grip

like she holds her life savings in a public place

Mom would have killed you

Muriel, get the newspaper!

I’m going to slap his ears off!

Don’t do that!

Just tell him to go outside!

I’m not talking to a fly!

Hold open the door and I’ll talk to him

Loudly she speaks:

Go out fly, you don’t want to stay in here,

Amber will kill you!

Amber opens the West End apartment door-

The air outside is spiced with the aromas of autumn:

Damp dirt, burnt wood, and the smells that rise

when rainwater vaporizes,

combined with cinnamon and pumpkin

broiling with cloves on the stove-

Then a breeze like a breath sweeps the curls

of Muriel’s hair-

The fly meanderers in wide slow revolutions

and tumbles in the whirling wind.

Muriel follows behind like a stern sheepdog

and the fly swerves around Amber’s face

before disappearing into the world

Like a passing car down a distant highway-

Flies do too have ears!

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