The man with his mouth open may collect b.u.g.s.* and when his mouth is full the flies will form high piles at his feet as they tumble out. He is usually sitting and, these days, the b.u.g.s. are usually rampant everywhere:
He is in a recliner forgetting the week and there are flies all around him. The Panthers are losing and everyone has just given up…..
He could be at his office working at the insurmountable, realizing that he is forcing himself through a hole his shoulders are too big for. — A big fish in a small pond is a stupid notion, that situation should never happen, because a big fish knows that he will not survive. — But when he looks outside to see piss puddles as his only alternatives, he relaxes everything and goes back to squeezing through to another side he is not interested in seeing. And his mouth is always open, like he is sucking for air, and the flies have easy access.
The flies collect when he is asleep.
When he opens his light bill and What-the-hells, leaving his jaw unhinged, the flies scramble for the warm spot near his uvula. The man cannot catch a break.
It is almost as if, these days, seeing a man with his mouth closed is as rare as finding someone with the ability to make it rain like it did on Noah.
The man does not have to worry about flies in the mouth when he has a beer to it, or a smoke. So of course he is an alcoholic. And chain smokes.
At the very least, he is breathing. With hopes to shake his b.u.g.s. problem. What more can you ask of a man just trying to survive, just living his life?
I’d ask him how the flies taste but my mouth is always full of moths.
PRL Serials 