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the shapes that keep appearing on my electronic page
struggle to become signs communicating meaning
     that reaches people at their core
so they can simply not resist responding to a message
the sense of which only evolves when they allow
to let themselves get lost in the uncertainty
of these strange writings on the virtual wall
it’s simply awesome
how much energy
is spent to document
the newness of the news
    no matter how repetitive
    may be the words of the reporters

the hype needs to be built
no matter whether right or stilted
driven by fear the topic might be wilted
a minute later

and half an hour later
you hear the same with minor variations
adorned with various speculations
so that the viewers may get the illusion
it’s NEW – though it is old,
    and just repetitive

an endless loop of hyped-up trivialities
     of who did what and when and why
     maybe with whom   or not
makes you aware that even new banalities
rarely include what really matters
to the majority of people on this globe
This is my romance
I long to fly,
sunsoak, sundance,
buzz and sing

When I'm a bee,
I fly erratically,
looking for flowers.
to help make honey

Where are you, Queen?
I respond just to You
I bring my nectar only for you
I feel your presence near

Buzzit! I feel strange,
downright deranged.
What's that in black?
Is our hive under attack?!

Humans are very fine
targets for my behind.
Buzz, buzz, I make a pass;
Now he gets a piece of ***

Uh-oh, what's that smokin'?
Bzzt, I'm feelin' heartbroken.
Bee hearts are so tiny
And easily broken

I'm flying
erratically
so high now



I'm out of breath
I'm closer to death

I'm going down now,
drifting
I'm going to sleep now, dreaming
of my Queen in our Hive of Honey
When I'm a bee
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