Yellow Jacket Mellow brassy brains forgive the raving fields a glassy caramel sky waning in the evening Mystic peach cantations. a violent lovers craving it blinds the wise, rubbing eyes, lost inside the fragrance but she’s the burst of robin song, mutinies to not go home; little Maggie touches everything, fingers wild and reaving- Tendril lost his savings and Flower lost her head- Maggie wraps her beastie fingers around my wings and stinger… and howl, howl, howl, oh she howls! There’s not a need for vast explanations of. I’m just a yellow jacket and I teach what I love. Nothing is perfect but the buzzards in the shade. I've drank from glowing pools the wisdom of the brahman bulls I’ve harmonized with highways where cars have barely missed me I’ve ate the flower and the bee and tasted both as sweetly I made myself a paper home within a old log's grave Captain of a ship of wings harbored where the clovers graze wild wild wild as wild can ever be there’s simply not another thing that has a life like me No need for vast explanations of the whats I’m just a yellow jacket and I sting what I love Little maggie still she runs the raving fields on and lingers late but watches everything that might feel harm she knows that ones who sting with life with buzzing wings know how to make such beauty of their whiles and all their pain They howl, howl, howl, oh they howl!

Pollywog She keeps the sun inside a box though she knows it’s ashes and locks. Neptune rests where birds made nests, in the broken tail lights of that ghost Buick 6. She draws diamonds with sticks and tells mother sun, don’t fear, she won’t let him near. Mad bees float where poets would drown. She sleeps with hymns on gold grass downs, she has a dream a dark storm comes and washes away all her windows and pains- opens her doors and lets the wind blow in, then everything blows away. They might look like the stars. Moon bit scimitars. But she knows its only nails in boards. A frayed electric cord. Peels of paint on the shelves that look like coves of caves and bells, but she knows. When the lights go down, who knows? Who knows. She keeps her rings and Saturn’s wings deep below in a useless heavy coat. A worm in a jar with soil from afar, the flowers are dried. it never rains outside. How is it wind that blows the seas can never bring their waves back here?