poetry = nonsense
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit

they’re queenless I can’t save them in a moon they’ll all be dead anyway they were upset for being left behind they feared for their future for that they got punished suffocated in their box I just have to let go it’s what we do an air force of crunchy little bodies wings at the ready my buzzy little friends without a future near the bottom of the food chain I cannot save them I can’t keep them and nobody wants them so they must die naturally it’s complicated safety, transport, liability citizens’ rights, county inspectors all manner of meaningless drivel that gets in the way of life as reparations I get honey 5-VI-2019
Copyright © 2011 Erick Calder
All Rights Reserved
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