by Trinity Richardson
Ode to the Fly from Breaking Bad
Whom I have started many fights over,
hoping in my passion
someone might see me.
Do you think the fly from Breaking Bad
—if he were real—
would go to heaven or hell?
I know you believe
in purgatory,
but for argument’s sake,
(for my sake)
let’s pretend there’s no more waiting
after we die.
A common housefly only lives a month,
probably less
in a meth lab.
Imagine spending life running
from something bigger than yourself.
You say, ‘Look at the fly
resting on the browning apple,
tasting it.’
People like you make me want to believe in god.
Poet Trinity Richardson is a poet raising an evil cat. They are a reader for West Trade Review and Dishsoap Quarterly and the social media manager for The Adroit Journal. They have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, and their poems can be found or are forthcoming in Moon City Review, South Florida Poetry Journal, Thimble, and more. Outside of writing, their interests include Magic, magic, and claw machines.
Artist Edward Baranosky’s work emphasizes the ever-changing moments of the sea. As a poet-artist he crosses the channels and pathways between the visual and the textual. Published in Eastern Structures, Haiku Avenue, Lynx Journal, Northern New England Review, Mid-Atlantic Review, Crossing Lines, Comstock Review among others. At 79, he is still emerging. He currently lives in Toronto, Canada.
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