Bumblebee, bumblebee, why do you fly
When life would be better
If you would just die?
Human, human, why do you hate
When you eat the plants
That we bees pollenate?
Bumblebee, bumblebee, sure you’re ok
In a creepy bumbley
Bug sort of way.
Human, human, we’re both Earth’s daughter
Wait, why do your hands
Hold aloft that fly swatter?
Filed under Poems
I’m sitting in the forest,
Bony flesh among the trees,
Trying to consort with both
The flowers and the bees.
As the hours came and went
And nature’s reply did not
I remembered my childhood
And found I had a thought:
The scarecrow of Dorothy’s comp’ny
Lacked a brain, which stopped him from
Doing as I was attempting.
So I questioned: “Am I dumb?”
One of the bees responded:
“Nope. Now go back to the mall.”
I did just that, but pleased
That bees aren’t assholes after all.
Filed under Poems
They’re coming at seven
And this place is a mess.
There are larvae all over the walls.
We’ve not enough pollen
To feed all our guests,
And the queen is asking for my balls.
The workers are striking.
The drones are conversing.
The soldiers are sewing on stripes.
I’ve just about had it
With this dinner party
And all of my coworkers’ gripes.
Thus said the hornet
Who dared to be different.
‘Twas his nature. He didn’t know why.
Later that day
After leaving the nest
He learned that he’d been born a fly.
Filed under Poems
Living as a bumblebee
Is really very lame.
Your life is run by mind control
And every day’s the same.
Our homes are much too sticky
And attract too many bears.
Yellow and black are so last Spring
But no one ever cares.
It’s hard to have an argument
When your sole source of defense
Creates discomfort in your enemy
And kills you in recompense.
And so we drone and buzz and fly
And polenate a bagonia,
Humming “Fields of Gold” by Sting,
Hoping the queen does not disown ya.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 