Home
Just on the right side of drunk
An evening’s job well done
Key in the door
And on the edges
of already
Blurred vision
I saw a blot of black
A bee
On the wall
Had snuck in the frame
As if awaiting our return
Then the thing just dropped
Like a magnet that suddenly lost its pull
An almost soundless thud
Like paper ripping
But worse
It writhed meekly
On the floor
We considered options
Settled on sugar water
I’ll get you back to the nest, fella
JUST HANG IN THERE
You are pollen’s unwitting agents
Without you there’d be no flowers
The wheels really would come off
Its belly pulsed
Little limbs distended
I remembered the squirrel in Surbiton
Wondered if its head were still
Somehow intact
Or long since returned to earth
With the goats and ducks and horses
I came back later
It was still alive, but barely
Some fight
Some biology still working
But then
I saw its legs
Folding in
Strangely symmetrical
All squared up
As if it knew this was the last thing
It had to take care of
Squirrels, bees, civilisation
The best intentions
Finest margins
Dwindling prospects
Depleting populations.