Saturday, June 30, 2012

The Big Beesy

Get your feet licked. 
The ground’s covered 
In balcony dripped 
Saliva. 

Framed in potholes,
Your neon apparitions 
Await you. 

Enter the honeycomb 
To a melt of music; 
Here they charge you 
For deafness.

Old faces across the wall 
Sweat an elixir of gas. 
You molecule you dance 
In a hive on the drift.

The queen, she croons.

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