I look straight upward and I see
A wasp nest hanging over me:
By a mere twig it's dangling,
And this, my nerves, is jangling.
Wasp [Lyric Poem]
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They say that each and every single fly
Has five thousand lenses in each eye:
A three-sixty view from toes to rump,
And thus I become the fly-swatting chump.

tattered butterfly
comes to rest after a
spastic last dance.


the wasp hive:
its crescent entrances
see steady to & fro.