Poetry | December 11, 2020

I’ve Got an Asinine Affinity (Infinity?), a Clumsy Love Song

The bees of the heart weave stillness into a conversation.

String theory is smaller than the bees in the honey tin,

larger than the bats hanging from the DO NOT DISTURB

sign. If I wasn’t so tired, I’d rearrange my family’s lives

above the upright piano, would spring a new theory in a blue-

me world, where wandering beyond the yard sets my laughing

gear in motion. If only my iPhone had a zapper app

I’d deploy it at the movies, but for now I just use my keys.

Tell me about your everyday love, and I’ll tell you how

the worm bin is haunted, and the fact that I hid the rules

in back of the cider house, in a can of Lyle’s Golden Syrup. Sticky

sunrise, and UPS brings a broken administration all the way

from the America, the box intact. I miss my life, I really do.

The bees of my heart sing the Mad Girl’s Love Song

so often my quarantine has an earworm, and the rat

in my compost pile steals the worms. If I wasn’t so tired

I’d be detachable, capable of reliability, but that’s debatable.

In an old insane world, the able are constantly bewitched, which

is good, in my book. Close your eyes, pots and pans, running

water. Can’t you hear the phone ringing? The Mad Girl’s

in the Bee Box, and I’ve got a sloe-gin theory about that.