Bees in the Eaves
by Bill Yarrow
We write in darkness. We love
in alleys. We breathe into beige
paper bags. Anything to mollify
the confusion. Anything to simplify
the math. I am beset, even by rest.
And when I close my eyes, the world
is still macaronic. I feel for the wolf
about to be trapped in the landfill.
I feel for the crab about to scamper
from the net. I feel for humanity when
the brightness of sick knowledge falls
from exorbitant air. But remedies
abound. There's a remedy for everything.
And a remedy for every remedy.
in alleys. We breathe into beige
paper bags. Anything to mollify
the confusion. Anything to simplify
the math. I am beset, even by rest.
And when I close my eyes, the world
is still macaronic. I feel for the wolf
about to be trapped in the landfill.
I feel for the crab about to scamper
from the net. I feel for humanity when
the brightness of sick knowledge falls
from exorbitant air. But remedies
abound. There's a remedy for everything.
And a remedy for every remedy.
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Author's Note
This poem appears in The Poetry Storehouse with a reading by Nic Sebastian.
http://poetrystorehouse.com/tag/bill-yarrow/#bees
Video remix by Swoon:
http://vimeo.com/87986405
This poem was published in Mad Hatters' Review and also appears in Pointed Sentences (BlazeVOX 2012).
Other stories by Bill Yarrow
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"I feel for the wolf" - The closing line is the core of hope. Good poem, Bill.
"I feel for the wolf" - The closing line is the core of hope. Good poem, Bill.
Captures just about everything in 84 words.*
There's a lot to like in this poem, Bill. Especially how that last line turns the poem back to itself. *
Love the musicality of the language in this poem and how it seems to turn inward on itself at the end.*
when
the brightness of sick knowledge falls
from exorbitant air.
Somebody needed to say it. *
Thanks, Sam, Amanda, Emily, Gary, and Jake!