Moths, I thought at first, bumbling up
to the window’s light, their clumsy orbits
as the sky stretched orange overhead and trees
turned to ink. Beer in hand, watching the old man
who shuffles, nightly, three times around the block,
I saw they were not moths, but bees,
bodies dusted with a day’s labour,
legs pollen-globed, tiny wings beating
double-time to lift their load three floors up.
A dozen or more wobble past, drunks
returning to the hive to regurgitate their efforts
for the Queen. These stiffs pull longer hours
than me, yet somehow manage to locate
their pleasure within the dance. Take
one last sip of nectar, before turning in.
4 comments:
Hey Bren, good to see another of your urban/nature poem...
I like the odd details here: the old man and his three cycles around the moon. The light pollution-orange sky.
A few notes...
"regurgitate" seems a bit too formal for such a down-home poem: maybe "puke" (it maintains the 'u' sound and even echoes the 'unk')
I also want the initial description of the pollen-daubed bees to be compressed a little.
I like this one very much-- all the warm color of the sky, the bees, the pollen. The one bit I'm not sure of is that little bit of anthropomorphism in the word 'pleasure." Not sure if that really works. The reference to the dance is good, though.
Really liked this, was into it from the beginning "clumsy orbits as the sky stretched orange & trees turned to ink" and the detail of the old man was great
"i saw they were not moths but bees" seemed a bit formal. wordy.
the bee description is, well, the bee's knees.
I like the idea of bees as wobbly puking drunks. puke might be a better word as suggested, regurgitate their efforts wasn't quite it.
like the "within the dance"...h but like Joanne, I have never thought bees terribly pleasured, anthropomorphically they strike me as "drones"...slaves, easily angered...maybe just identifying their dance before sleep would do it? they do tend to float in circles rather than straight lines
have you read about how cell phones are what is killing bees? i'm horrified. anyway. that's all I have to say.
I agree with the others that there's lots of great stuff happening here: the old shuffler, the image of drunk bees, and so much more.
I kind of wish, though, that the central premise of "not moths but bees" were something more like "not ____ (something that is not a winged insect) but bees." Not that I know what that would be, flying near a window -- blossom petals? feathers? I'm not sure, it just seems a little too close to be surprising. (You'll note I'm not an entomologist!)
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