A Poem About Bees

(From August 5th. First, a bit about bees. Then, a snippet regarding infinity and the universe.)


Maybe
one bee dances differently than the others
and shifts
their monochromatic expression into polyphony
Perhaps
their pattern, disrupted, fuses inward
until,
too tightly wound the movement catches and
explodes
into a cacophonic impression of reality
But this
electric seeming simply confuses the idea -
mixes
caustic sound with heavy echolalic spaces -
till full,
the ceilings shatter, and disillusioned, the bees die.



If you count high enough,
the universe will explode.
The stars can't hold the numbers
past what they share light with.
Finitude won't contain
more than itself:
It will strain, stretch, and eventually
burst into nothingness.