I found a flying striper
It minded it’s own business
So I asked my mother what it was

She said it was a bee
And that they could be dangerous
But that they made honey
And that some people kept them

I saw in my head a farm
With nets built into cages
To hold all the stripes
And I wondered if I could get
Used to bees
And
In time
I did

Their stingers are sunk
Deep under my skin