rik-rat corn pile

Friday, November 20, 2009

Ode to a Dead Bumble Bee

While i ran across the lawn
You bumbled in the clovers
You played matchmaker
Among the pretty flowers.

For such a tiny, buzzing thing,
Hardly even there.
Into my arch, i felt a sting
Into my skin so bare.

And with that sting that felt like fire
Burning up my shin
I cussed and screamed and cursed that bee
My foot became its pyre.


I stumbled forth
And landed on the stairs.
I clutched my foot
To look at it
And half the bee was there.

A tiny pulsing abdomen
pumped venom in my skin.
And i knew that bee would never buzz
or ever fly again.

Now I walk on aching arch
With steroids as my pills.
To dull the pain,
Unflame inflamed

From a bee whose guts were spilled.

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