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Tue 5 Oct, 2004 05:20 am
BEE POLITIK
A wanton bee found its way
through a window.
Our allies are allergic to the sting.
The spray, the spray,
and he stops flying,
settles on the blinds and thinks,
what is my next move
before I shuffle off
this mortal coil?
More spray,
more bee contemplation.
He rolls upon his back
and wiggles his legs
in torment.
The flowers are in full bloom,
the weather is beautiful.
People
gaze upon the sunset,
ignoring the approaching storm.
The tempest enraptures,
overcomes.
The bee
and his observers
are drowned,
some more wet
than others,
much to the dismay
of a spider's hope.
Ah, Cav. I must come back and start from the BEEginning. Allergies are a sting in the soul of sensation. In other words, I can't see properly and keep sneezing.
Later, my friend
Allergies suck, Letty. Mrs. cav's mother's allergies are debilitating.

Take care.
Nose dry--no sneezes--a benadryl moment:
Cav, I declare you have turned the killing of a bee into magic. I love it. My daughter was extremely allergic to bee stings, so I sympathize.
What does a bee think before his demise?
My sting is gone; can't we compromise?
What does a bee think before it's demise...I think: "b-b-b-uz-z..."

All things being considered, I'd rather be a butterfly.
kellyvinal wrote:This what a bee thinks:
<I have a problem resisting quips> I never would have expected that the last thing a bee thinks about before their demise is "my colon...", but when you think about how they leave their stingers behind, it makes sense.
I love the use of contrast in moods, particularly in this bit -
He rolls upon his back
and wiggles his legs
in torment.
The flowers are in full bloom,
the weather is beautiful.
Following the word torment with such pleasent thoughts creates a brilliant effect.
Thank you Blacklacebutterfly. If only Bush would spend more time tending his garden and less time killing bees. Some folks don't believe me, but it's true, if you leave them alone, they eventually go away.