the wasp
Your life and mind like the pane
the wasp interrogates in panic.
Light out there, and your drive for light
but blocked by the inexplicable,
this strangely invisible lucidity.
Your life and mind like the pane
the wasp interrogates in panic.
Light out there, and your drive for light
but blocked by the inexplicable,
this strangely invisible lucidity.
Written by adswithoutproducts
October 18, 2010 at 10:21 am
Posted in poem
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Thing about wasps is that they deliberately come inside to get food or sting you. They actively search you out. Bees immediately realise their mistake when they come inside and do their best to leave as soon as possible, even if it means bashing the window pane a hundred times. Never been stung by a bee, but wasps get me once a year or so.
I’m not sure if wasps ever panic. They’re too soulless for that.
davidaa
October 23, 2010 at 6:10 am