Bee
Swaying crowd flashing lights
Mumbles of mumbling
rap culture mumble culture puncture
Bodies many fit hugs fit pringles
Swaying and swaying and
From the stage the star
A reflection from the flashes in the crowd
Calling to the crowd as the raps said out loud the same sound around and round
And a little bumbling bee
Crazy as ever buzzing
Over mind puzzles
Puzzled by the crowd in lines
In Lines and lines and lines of the same kind
Army of command v, v, vvvvvvvv
Pushed to the front, no—
Beckoned to the front
Made the front part Red Sea
Climbing, floating the stairs
Without giving a care
Paused statue
In front of the mic
Eyes looking laser piercing drone pointers
On me
Little bumble bee
Little girl made big with passionate
Failed dreams turned
medicated potions
Made the muse of stories once felt not seen
Never seen
Still—
So
Very
—Still.
A break cough laugh
Dropped glass spill
lasers fumbled oh mumbled trap beats
Hushed trapped
They hold their breaths, they gasp.
Eyes blank but on sight pointed right
And she froze but not frozen
Mumbled rhyme still chimed
I’m not only hers but mine
And everyone’s mind dumb side lined,
She screams:
“Poetry is dead”
Clutching above her
A decapitated head
Blood gushing, it spreads
on the heads of lasers dead
Splattered paint
Blood red
But not colored crayon, actual blood
they look up, stare, unfettered, no dread
Not a word
Nothing
Nothing!!!!!!!!
But stay
Swaying.
Again,
“POETRY IS DEAD! What are you looking at? Waiting for... tending towards death? Where’s your tail—your head? This mess! It’s poison, it infects! Wake up! But here we don’t sleep...so Run! Don’t let it get
To your head,
Or worse
Your unconscious in bed.
Do you hear me?!
Are you conscious?
Are you—
dead?”
She screams
She screams but the beat drops in smooth streams and her cries are made into patterned rhythmic rhymes over bass and high hat tapped half times
And they sway—
Oh they sway! It’s contagious!
And it sways her way!
and the wave! It’s warm! It moves, carries in undercurrents her hips play
She sways
Pacified numbing
Away
Eyes run
But streams carry bodies to the sewer
Sunken garbage—their fate
Ears giving in to mumbling nothings
Drug filled feel good somethings
Empty sweater blinding lights
A name that means nothing
T-shirt’s with labels, words denigrated
Suffocated
What does it mean?
Who cares!
‘Solidarity’ as a catch phrase
click bait stirring storm!
Passionate but passing
Attention grabbing not lasting
Violent but rare
A crowd passion
Felt in herd madness
Forgotten like a dream
—What?
Lights blinding brewing a swarm
But the bloody head only led them
To feed on it’s body instead—
Poetry is now yours.
Take it as you wish.
Communion bread, holy water, bodily bliss!
Eat it, use it, plate it on a dish!
Take a pic!
There it is!
Forever sunken society
Pure spectacle sans variety
Where culture,
Where suffering is used—it’s makes for good digestion
Entertainment for fears, intoxicated ears
Indigestion by bugs like her
Dirty insects acid reflux without those
Antidotal eyes runoff stolen made blind
to such reminiscent rhythmic lights
Without eyes she’s sucked in
Mummified
No more cries
No buzzing
Bees die
She stung
One with the sticky floor
Lifeless as the crowd rustles out the door
Peeling shoes from slime footprints
Stepping over her body,
The entertainment of the night
The show, animated bright!
Passing right on by (she’s not alright) the alarming sight
But it doesn’t matter, the bee is dead.
(Twinkling missed stinger pierced the decapitated head instead! She missed! And for this she must—)
Bystander effect
Move right on by
Step over her wings
Hopped legs straddling clean
Beer covered floor caked echo screams
Equivocal veil
it seems
Glistens gleams
Poetry’s head for a pillow
Lights out no more silliness
Emptiness, what a sight! no—
What a chosen flight*!
*plight
Busy bee fused cold dead
To poetry’s head.
She’s dead; they both are.
No one mourns a silly bee
Worshiped head
Bruised knees.
[05/14/18]