Wasp in a Coffee Cup in Howe Library
Maybe I’ll let him loose outside
Maybe I’ll throw him in the trash
He seemed pretty weak and sickly,
But maybe he’ll get loose
And sting the shit out of my skinny ass.
He wasn’t pollinating anything
Just crawling up the window
And falling back down again.
I hold his vibrating soul in limbo now.
I really have to write this essay
I feel like him– at first buzzing
At the wet paper prison wall
But then quieting and sitting
In a brown puddle, thinking about it all.
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