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7d
my brain’s a big bumblebee
floating and fluttering
wherever its
creased heart desires

its indented lines
- or black and yellow stripes -
wisps of a weary world;

corollaries of
the honey
and the rain
and the earth’s
ambiguous haze
that’s sent so many
flailing flip-flops
at me
- but also -
it’s sent
bundles of exuberance
in the form of
wistful wisteria

those
weeping
purple bundles
and my big bumblebee brain
sharing whispered secrets
so that not even
- the universe -
can listen
- can soil -
our untapped honey
jubilance
dripping out of our
full bright sprightly
grins.

so
- this -
is an ode
not
to my big bumblebee brain
bumbling through life
unperturbed and acquiescing,
but
to the flailing flip-flop
who knows no better
than attempting to
dismantle and drain
our syrupy soporific
honey secrets.

after all,
that flip-flop
does save
the fragile foot
with its wet tissue delicacy
from jagged pebbles
who also
know no better.

don’t you see;
everything is cyclical,
which is why,
my big bumblebee brain
will attempt
to sting
your ignorant skin
into submission

for no other reason
than to reach
the completion
of this sick cycle;

the same reason
the flailing flip-flop
flails for my
bumblebee brain’s
ignorance
and one day
will splatter it
all over
its hardy, weathered bottom.


ah,
how’s the old
vonnegut saying
go?
Written by
Caleb Nathan  19/M
(19/M)   
61
     honeyed
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