Horse flies, fruit flies, dragon flies, house flies, drain flies, blow flies, bottle flies, phorid-humpbacked flies,
fluttering around like foreign exchange students in a school composed of minorities.
“Am I pretty?” asked the house fly to the bottle fly,
“Fuck you, cunt!” the bottle fly hastily responded.
“Sounds good…” said the house fly suggestively and complacently.
She swam through the humid air to his palace of rancid ramen noodles,
and intertwined herself in their stiff loops flavored with garlic and anticipation.
The bottle fly stomped his meager legs to the submissive house fly,
and entered himself.
Her compound eyes rolled back as she yelped, “Harder, harder!”
Until her tarsal segments dislocated from her thorax,
and the timid house fly split in two.
The bottle fly continued his relentless thrusting,
until they were decimated particles seasoning noxious garbage,
in a house full of flies.
PAZ 
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