I smell,
A queen bee drenched in alcohol!
Dried up,
And soaked into a cotton ball.
One whiff and all of a sudden she is my queen bee!
Now I devote my entire life to a spoonful of honey!

Baked inside her two thousand golden wombs,
Emerging drunk on her chemical love.
We eat her eyes for sight to see,
She sees what she wants to see.

Gold dust is stuck to my thighs,
And flowers are growing out of my eyes!
This is all I can see,
The life of a honey bee!

I hunt with the bees from the honeycombs,
All entranced by her chemical love song.
Seduced by the crown of a flower,
Hung ovaries filled with nectar.

Excuse me, Ma'am. May I, a humble honey bee, drink of your nectar?
I am a starved servant of my queen bee, and I must return to the hive with nectar for the colony, or else my queen will beat me maliciously!

-

I am the mother,
The barer of life.
If you follow me,
You will survive.
You need someone like me,
You need a queen bee.

I am the one who rose,
and you rose with me.
I am the creator,
Of the entire colony.
You need someone like me,
You need a queen bee.

-

Strong enough to hold down the seas,
Yet too weak to hold down the bees.
You can't tell us what to do,
Because the bees will find a way to defy you.

With a body so fat,
And wings so small,
We should not be able to fly at all;
Yet we fly anyway,
Because we don't give a **** about what you say;
The bees just levitate away!

Who are you to tell us what to do,
We are the many and you are the few!

They hold an untold truth,
that is linked to you.
Listen to the sounds,
As they slither around.
Coiled and twined,
Growing in size.
Latched on to your screams,
As they enter your dreams.
Fight the battle long and hard,
Until they are nothing but shards.
But the truth will still remain
until your emotions are slain.

Katydid lover, your ******* form
slips nightly into my bed,
rubbing my limbs with a love song.
A waterlily corolla my pillow,
and you, the charm of a colibris,
drinking from my *******.
You lift my gown of gauzy film,
my wings emerging from
webbed sleeves, spider legs
from mist-net stockings.
Then, suddenly, we’re together,
held in this sticky, perfumed cloud,
hoping the rain will never wash us apart.

When you snap a dry twig
you'll find a star inside.
White within beige in brown bark.
No, really. Have you ever looked?
Helicopter seeds have waxed, peel-able layers.
Dandelions have bumps, fossa, tails.
Pick them. Find the white sap oozing out.
Did you ever roll a bug?
Did you ever see another's fluorescent glow?
Remove an acorn hat next fall.
Remember that creamy, perfect nugget and roll
it over in your fingers. Pretend you're a squirrel.
Examine butterfly dust under the microscope
of your spring season soul.
Fold a thick line of crab grass between two thumbs.
Listen to your music, composer.
Where do ants get their perfectly identical pebbles?
Stacked so professionally into tiny, *****, domes.
Have you ever looked?

Pluck my legs off.
Ouch. Are you happy now?
Yes.
Keep me helpless, wondering.

See my inner glow flying overhead
blinking for a new lover.
Capture me. Then smear my hope
across your sidewalk.
I’ll be the paint on your
narcissist, concrete canvas.

Maybe just keep me in a jar
******* that air hole. Tight and choking.
If I light up will you
poke another?
No.
Hold onto the side looking
through glass until I fade.

I remember what you said.
I didn’t want to live anyway.

Yellow and black,
too heavy for science yet
weightless to the air.
You fly.
You protect.
You die.
Your senses are keen,
and your smile is bright.
You work all day,
and rest all night.
Mr. Bee, how do
you do it?
How do you manage to
stay so happy and optimistic.
Your squished and smashed,
hit and bashed.
Yet your smile is omnipresent.
Mr. Bee, teach me how to live
happy in this cold and sad world.

I write poetry when thoughts infect me
catching colloquy in a web to feast
my thorax alates pearlescent scales
I capture nectar from dewy books
***** waxy words that form in the back
of my throat in honeycomb shapes
they taste sweetest directly from my lips
until you notice six legs protruding
or ten eyes staring up at you in fear
the apex of my elytra is rainbow chrome
but all you see is a hardened shell
admittedly, all I've ever had is ability
to filiform syllables and sounds
dangle lexicon delicately from silk pages
in hopes of creating all the beauty
that I have never felt I possess in this form

some classify
while others
disagree

the decision to root
this thorn of chance
may sadly,
worm the systems

grotesque foliage
will enter through
near-dead

if one begins to fail badly
destroy
and discard

I don't want to dance, I just want to feel the floor like it's shaking me to death.
I don't want to die, I just want the earth to swallow me like a hero treats his wife.
I don't want to talk, I just want to feel a different heart against mine all time of the year.
I don't want to brag, I just want to show you my intese trust.
I don't want to hit you, I just want to remember why I can't have children.
I don't want to see your face, I just want to imagine your death over a waspnest.

I don't want to write, I just want to stay alive.