And the flies
Are always
The first
To arrive
Out of thin air
They sense
The fruit
The rot
And the decay
They thrive
More human
Than humans
They don't pretend
That this isn't
What
They are
And they share
Their disease
Willingly
They spread
Their germs
Blind in a drunken
Delight to succeed
They attack
Our eyes
Our mouths
Our food
Pesky black dots
No intention
Or ambition
Other than
Survival
Crawling through
The air
Riding the rats
Showing the people
Their animal reflections
From death
They are born
As are
We
All