Bees

The Kamikaze Venom Vainly
Queen vs. coiled pilots
Warring can-smoke
Dead thoraces

Peace over Honey and
they quiet the graze
they become our
Grids of milk.

Bees revolt! They sting
And sting and sting and
Die, triumphantly
Little diving trumpets

Escalator

I’ve got an out-of-water suitcase
Packed with umbrellas
I promise, peddle:
Fling to people
Cling to the ankles of clouds

I am a blind dolphin
Riding an escalator
Writhing, a deflating balloon
The rain flows over us,
Black ink from a printing press

Your smile hops mountains
Of Jell-o, beside red
Happiness frogs scatter
Only for an afternoon

In truth, gelatin proof of rain.