deepundergroundpoetry.com

the hive

aresole insecticide seeps into the hive
and everything goes to sleep

a deep sleep

the kind of sleep
you don't return from

like a tiny jonestown

a mass grave


all yellow & black
and dead


and of a single stinger
in a little girls swollen wrist

we learned from god
how to kill when we don't know
what else to do
Written by Grae (Bryan Gray)
Published | Edited 25th May 2022
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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