Carrion Flies and Congressmen
for De Lima and Dayan
Carrion flies, not Congressmen,
these buzzing before us. Unable
to keep themselves from prying
into flesh, they push their blunt
and moist mouths to break down
each morsel that they may suck
some sick nourishment. Compound
eyes unblinking, they imagine fragments
of wet dreams while questioning
a witness in the cold halls of Congress
that might as well be a makeshift morgue,
an EJK cottage industry offshoot.
Their wings transparent with such dark
veins, quivering with every imagined
movement of limbs behind closed doors.
Their feet have tongues that taste
possible fodder. Lust and love,
these flies could never have.