The Bees
the bees poem by Mick Tomlinson first it was the spiders. they repelled down like paratroopers one-by-one. they dangled over my coffee my computer, my sofa, my bed; legs all over my apartment spread open, waiting for contact. I went to war with them, and won. last night it was the bees. I imagine at first it was just one that flew in by accident, in through the open window near my bed. after a few moments of disoriented buzzing into walls and ceilings it finally calmed down and accepted it's new home. but what's a home without friends and family? that little fucker invited EVERYONE. leading up to the war between man vs. bees, man had been drinking beer and twisting metal in the driveway all evening; the bees remained sober and full of sting. 6 beers, 1 poem, and an 8 dollar bottle of wine later I took the highway to my bedroom, exited south. and that's when I first saw them. three of them at first, just resting on the wall near