The Assassination of the Bees

she never thought much of bees

now she thinks of them as though thinking will save them

sweet, little peacekeepers,

fuzzy, whirry in love with nectar

sticky stockings soaked with ordered thoughts

from God’s jeweled and spiraled fractals whirr, whirr, whirr

innocence diligence innocence

taken given taken given

dripping goo

dear peacekeepers,

you may choose violence only once

he who chooses violence chooses death

sweet little peacekeepers

all who love peace are assassinated

blindly led to slaughter

along enemy spirals

enemy poisons drunken sweetly as peaches

whirr, whirr, whirr your way, eat our AIDS

eat the crashing cacophony of

every virus known to man

every fungus unknown to bees

stuffed into your tiny body’s blackened goo

hungry predators pass over your sick jelly in the empty hive

Paris Opera House, beekeeper

dear, fuzzy peacekeepers

sing, sing on the safe and singing roof of the Paris Opera House

where no pesticides can eat your wings or stop your beating heart

where they understand the music of growing things

on the roof of the California bank,

a million strong you storm the castle keep

keeping far from poisoning your hive

and calmly tell the tellers, “Here, we will die now.”

oh, rue the day the bankers came to America!

sweet, noble peacekeepers

what will become of us?

of the harmonic rapture of every flowering fruit and vegetable sweetly singing with God’s great goo

oh, twisted blossoms of innocence! innocence!

sending fake nectar into choking bees

strangling our dear humming peacekeepers on their rose-scented mission

their tiny veins collapsing without

without

without

enough to eat

oh, if banks could decipher fractals!

too busy with counting chaos

oh, enter fractals into the brains of banks

pour into the mold of their vaults your hot rivers of scarlet molten gold

let them explode with your fire

fire is coming!

a million Chinese men feathering pollen with infinite patience

into a million starving, open-mouthed pear blossoms

cannot stave off the fire that is coming

oh, but think – can she remember

and where will her memories fly after the flames?

remember roses, once heavy with scent?

peaches? did the fuzz get up the nose and need to be corrected?

oh, remember delectable plums whose bloody flesh 
tingled the ears?

Wondrous watermelons of the desert, she wants to wade barefoot

in their sweet, syrupy water

Cherries, wine sweet bunches!

she is drunk on grapes!

and, where will the kitchen be without onions and garlic?

 Vatican Gardens, Rome

This is the loss of Paradise – not Adam and Eve!

why keep peace when profit glistens?

why! she closes her eyes to keep from seeing –

the tipping of the merchant’s ring -

the assassination of the bees.

        

 Note: Word on the e-street is that Monsanto has been killing queen bees. Gives new meaning to the word "assassination."                                                                   

©Patricia Goodwin, 2009

Patricia Goodwin is the author of When Two Women Die, the story of two women who died and became legends in an historic seacoast town. Watch for the sequel - coming soon!