The Violence I Made.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

a big black
kind of fly is circling my
fruit cake

it is an hour before
new year
and i promise not to
swat a lost fly
in this dining room
where everyone is
pretending to be
solemn and
decent

i am resisting instinct
but my nature comes out
and i cannot hold it

and so i swatted the fly
to death
in the middle of this
sweet fruit cake.

as everyone is decent
and i am the oldest here
no one speaks
about the violence i made.

after all it is just a big
black fly
and it is an intruder of
the house where
we all live.