swim, fly, swim

i'm in the bath
watching a fly
on the wall
above me.

the steam
is coursing up
and i wonder
about the fly.

he's still pretty
small
and they only
have a life span
of a few days
at the most,
so i figure
this fly
must be in
midlife.

i wash
my face
and rinse
away the soap.

i slowly immerse
myself
all the way into
the tub
until the water
is almost
ready to bulge
over the sides.

the tension is
easing from
my back
and
shoulders,
but the fly
is still there.

"hello, fly,"
i say.

he doesn't answer.

i can tell
he is a he
because he's sporting
a bit
of a chub.

"yeah, midlife,"
i say.

he rubs
his front legs
together
quickly
and tilts
his little bug head
and stares at me.

i'm getting hot.
the bath is
making me sweat.

i wash
the more
crucial parts
of the anatomy
and
rinse away the rest.

the fly is still there.
he flicks a leg.
flicks another.
it looks like he's
pondering something.

i release the plug
from the tub,
stand,
grab the towel
from the rack,
and begin to
dry myself off.

the fly
is still there,
pondering.

i dry my face
and
look down at the drain
as the fly makes his final swirl
before being sucked up into the infinity
that is the california sewer system.

he raises
a single leg
as he's swallowed up.

i nod and say,
"yeah, midlife.
godspeed, you poor
fucker."