TWO TRIBES

Two flies float in tandem above the monitor
seemingly copulating.
And I think
“What they do is more interesting
than what I am,”
And I think
“they are producing more love
than my shitty poem.”
And I realize
“They will create something real
when they are done
while I am making nothing.”

And I watch them
while I curse myself
and then I consider,
“do these flies know how to type?”
And I realize
“I’ve got them where I want them.”