On:

I’ve let the yard go.There’s still grass, yes, but bitby bit it steps aside for dandelionsand violets, creeping vineswith purple flowers, baby bluetsand buttercups. It is as if I’mallowing space for one smallflower per bee, inviting themto my yard for a drink.The neighbors whose lawn is perfect,who mow 3 timesContinue Reading

On:

Steven broke up with Kelly after she was stung by the bee. I can confirm this because I was there. According to Kelly’s version of the story, she broke up with Steven before the bee sting. I don’t know what I expected when I called her out on the discrepancy.Continue Reading

On:

If we put them in boxes, they will hold up better.No, they won’t be able to breathe.They aren’t breathing anyway.We need a stasis box. That way they won’t deteriorate any further.What do you think they do with these long extensions stuck to their shoulders?Do you think they could fly withContinue Reading

On:

Sitting with bees, Irrepressible energy hums like the sun Poured into Spring’s burgeoning blossoming. Honeyed sweetness is gathered in quickness, But, Ah! It’s been cold for them now. Many have drowned in a late April hail, And each day they drop out their dead To the doorstep. I am stunnedContinue Reading

On:

I leave them stores for the winter,gallons of honey and a thousandgolden pockets of pollengleaming in the dark of the hivenourishing the workersthrough the long cold.But then I take my due,the honey supers so heavymy knees begin to buckle.Sweetness is a heavy loadpulling at my gut. It’s easierto cut itContinue Reading

On:

Ronnie’s hair had grown flaxen in her old age. It blew and tangled in the breeze as she made it up the hill, wicker basket in one hand as she cupped the space above her brow with the other. One of her bees, a long way from home, crawled alongContinue Reading

On:

This house hums like a hive,its rooms incubate larvae; buzzing and building persists.I cannot see the promised pink dolphin, omen of rebirth, anywhere, and all I want is to get out of here, go to New York,to give my homemade masks to the facesof unhoused people, my pasta to theirContinue Reading

On:

When bees are born, we’re told we have a singular purpose: to serve the colony. Worker or drone, our job is to make sure the future of the colony is secure. In plain terms, we exist to support the queen. And if she ever stops doing what her singular purposeContinue Reading

On:

You were golden at birth, Ambrose,a swarm of bees settled on your face,leaving behind a single drop of honey. We’ve heard this before, bees landingon the breath of baby Zeus and Bacchus,Virgil and Plato, foretelling sweetness of speech. As sermons drip from your honeyed tongue,we gather nectar, beat our wingsContinue Reading

On:

On Saturday morning, not too early, really,Sarah and I drove North, up out of the city,to leave it. The reason wasthat on this particular day, last year,both of us broke up with our respective partners.By accident (of course)they happened to be on the same day.Our breakups did.By happier accident, SarahContinue Reading