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
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
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