| A Biosemiotics |  | bee flight as script the waggle dance, the round dance and foraging behavior |
you are the secret
pinned to a vortex
feeling our way by our leg hairs and the ultraviolet sensors
raptured
in our eyes we hover we come apart we are gold rivers with torn scientia
our little hands
our eyes shine we assemble eros we love weeds
the aleph, the beta
we hover we come apart we translate petals hungtight, ringing
we cloud over we are the geographers of flowers
gone o o o o
we buy nothing we sell nothing we hover gone away home
bound golden-
in precise relation to the sun no god could bear this
eyed
mouth drunk on milkweed and starry with the intensity corn tassels
hieroglyph
of our movements a low beating noise
our leg hairs unimaginably sensitive and sticky throat
doped
what if we are the language of others
sensorium harmonium
what if language is both inside and outside the body
brokered
intraspecies, polyphonic resource extraction borders
what if we are the words
others’ mouths cannot form without us threw open her hands
into raw unsewn
sparks set loose like bees glistening
air
selva obscura crimson clover
dark woods dark words where is everyone
hiding
frayed, sentient
jesus
in fields of the missing
do you remember birds
it was shame that lit me like a flame
uncanny silence of empty white hive boxes
dark matter of hands
stumbled and pretending not to
ghost shirt and ghost wind
discarded container of Gaucho™ pesticide
bluebirds grassland acheghost dirt and “white man’s flies” and white man’s runoff
Beo-wulf, bee-man, little bison
monegum mæþum meodo-setla oftēah into the mead hall he plunges
with his shining axe his scarred and golden pelt
interstate bees, fossil-fuel bees
bees with guns, bees with suns
transported like Minutemen missiles
across prairies and test sites
nothing that is not Being or being rinsed through with dark excess my mouth
confused with night
flowers that belong to the dead, flowers that unclothe their bodies
without reserve
“the chemical warfare that is modern agriculture”
pink plastic toys lined up in the rain
multinational clothianidin dust in our furrows
coating seed corn and soy beans
finally weapons of mass destruction have been discovered
nearly invisible in living aquifers
and the pollen hair of disoriented bees
who join the disappeared of the Plaza de las Madres and those missing
on reconnaissance over napalmed Agent Orange rice fields
shining archetypes
over heartland, terra roxa, the raw purple soil of Amazonia
our everyday lives in late summer orchards
gone glottal and feral, outside our focus
blank stare of the sun
“AND YET SOMETIMES
A SILENT ANIMAL LOOKS UP AT US
AND SILENTLY LOOKS THROUGH US”
ring-necked snake your coral flower your dragonfly blue
weft, reft womb
islands your tiny furred bees your wild
hulled drunk on
countenance swims dusk coyotes our futures
virtual
ecstatic as maenads
hunger
stroking the hair of my bees
“unsteady aerodynamics,” a waxy substance from one’s own body
transparency of their flight, opacity of desire
without permission happiness happens or flesh-eating bacteria
sudden flash in near
and farther conifers the excessive yellow
and scarlet of a tanager
because “I Like America and America Likes Me”
why so bright
free-radical scavenger isotopes
unless Beauty is hell-bent
upon existing despite survival
because forever is a dream a nightmare
of the fittest automobile
free-market cloudbank like heaven, a chasm
in hedgerows, hedge funds
all life hinges
because the body is a ladder of incomparable pain
this is burning as I speak
because the body is a ladder of incomparable pain
they ran, scattered
woven with oracular bees, trembling
awaken bees, arise bees, trembling
and ran, but not fast enough
tongue to tongue, the colors, trembling
because the body is a ladder of incomparable pain
whose yellow bodies soar, trembling
where gods or God erased the people
cast off into the open, perilous
not gods or God, our warheads
pollen-filled air
scrubbed data
ethically clean
the stars on fire
