Michael Witkowski - wrath - bees

arrogance steeled in East German
walled compound - she gloats with it

and still wears the uniform-unseeen
her pride bites you in every tongue

such all tall bleak tower, male muscle
impish air exudes her lungs- chords strung
hightight with malice

perhaps i wanted to
find You- but faltered frail
and buckled as this bee hive,
this stock exchange of dancing,
prancing, twitching corpses
fell into my vision

why adapt? why bend my
bones to this bustling crate
of bees? if the bees' world
gives me nowt, i will not
arrange a fresh bee hive.
pesky man bees
you feel my wrath.

Michael Witkowski

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wrath-bees/