flying down a summer road
not an hour, your clean prison-stamped face
claims its first victim: a locust
from a Mississippi field
a dozen scorching miles later,
two dancing bees, who flew a billion miles a bucket for nectar,
smudged your double Bs, simultaneously
as if they’d made a pact to end
their busy buzzing and serve
their thankless queen
no more
next, a majestic monarch
did not understand the speed of light
the power of seventy miles per hour
or the sharp edge of your plate
against an eternal bumper
it left a stain more yellow
than red, though I have no doubt it bled
mutely, while another butterfly fluttered
faraway, wings wild against a black
ignorantly blessed sky
BRB-603,
who you massacre
we’ll wait to see
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
flying down a summer road
not an hour, your clean prison-stamped face
claims its first victim: a locust
from a Mississippi field
a dozen scorching miles later,
two dancing bees, who flew a billion miles a bucket for nectar,
smudged your double Bs, simultaneously
as if they’d made a pact to end
their busy buzzing and serve
their thankless queen
no more
next, a majestic monarch
did not understand the speed of light
the power of seventy miles per hour
or the sharp edge of your plate
against an eternal bumper
it left a stain more yellow
than red, though I have no doubt it bled
mutely, while another butterfly fluttered
faraway, wings wild against a black
ignorantly blessed sky
BRB-603,
who you massacre
we’ll wait to see
If your license plate happens to be BRB-602, this is a bizarre coincidence; I am not accusing you of such crimes
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