Mayfly Hatch Poem by Ben Partenay

it was and then wasn’t
and the mayflies were
hatching on the miss-
issippi, hungover drunk
and dry heaving mud
water rushing the
humming wings towards
louisiana, sitting
bedrenched a lone
bystander watching
the flies frantically
make love on street
corner light bulbs
fall flapping wings
and lie on concrete
struggling for life, I
had to laugh at
the way things unfold
all wet and frantic in
the darkness, how
madly the scramble
that ensues from
lustfull wishing, none
of us avoid the
light and barges
carrying our pretty
faces and swollen
hearts are always
floating down the
river, the captain
yelling
we did this
we did this