Southern Fly Pie
The Mother


I do not serve dried flies she said
I only serve fried flies
But first the flies must fornicate
Then catch them in a jar
let them give birth
and vaginally
without surgical or medicinal intervention
to preserve the purity
of the flies
before they fry
prepare the sauce
six escargots
diced shell and all
to aid digestion
a dash of mint
a ball of peanut butter
fly penis size
and crushed holly berries for the roux
saute until green with purple spots
add flies
and fry until they crack
legs fly into your face
remove from heat
serve hot
over okra
and yesterday's grits

This poem first appeared in ArtVoice 4/24/03