"Interposed a Fly" by Hollie Dugas

Interposed a Fly
— after Emily Dickinson

I have come here today as an interruption,
a symbol of doubt and in the same fashion
poets set God in poems. And, no, my wings
do not shepherd souls back into the womb
of Earth. I am here to document and eat,
to pronounce the body empty after Master
does her job. I watch Her labor, Her thick
enviable wings expanding with the promise
of a Death’s kiss over a woman who is
shrinking quickly behind rows of bouquets,
their sweet petals sluffing indifferently
to the floor. This is the job that I am
sentenced to — droning at an edge of
window light to observe another grand
finale. God is not going to make it — He
never does. I have arrived here
in His place, out of curiosity and grace.
Call me little witness, little pet of Death,
the tiny buzz of life hungry for your fading.

Hollie dugas

Hollie Dugas lives in New Mexico. Her work has been included in Barrow Street, Reed Magazine, Qu, Redivider, Porter House Review, EPOCH, Salamander, Poet Lore, The Louisville Review, The Penn Review, Breakwater Review, Third Coast, RHINO, Sixth Finch, Gordon Square Review, Phoebe, Broad River Review, and Louisiana Literature. Additionally, “A Woman’s Confession #5,162” was selected as the winner of Western Humanities Review Mountain West Writers’ Contest (2017). Hollie has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and for inclusion in Best New Poets. Most recently, her poem was selected as winner of the 22nd Annual Lois Cranston Memorial Poetry Prize at CALYX, in addition to the 2022 Heartwood Poetry Prize. She was also a finalist in the Atlanta Review’s 2022 International Poetry Contest.

Headshot: Holly Schullo

Photo Credit: Staff