by flammeusgladius







“I shall be a productive little bee!”

She said.  The hive, though, gave her everything:

All of the honey she could manage – free!—

And then a drone who could have been a king.

The music played.  She didn’t have to sing.

She was led through museums full of art.

Police protected her: no need to sting—

Although she could have stung with all her heart.

Her fierce career just never got a start.

Her sweet career was all consumer lax.

Having been coddled, she came quite apart

When envy executed its attacks.

Bees blamed her for their problems: “You’re obscene—

Both an oppressor and a welfare queen!”






–Tom Riley






(First appeared in The Lyric, v. 94, n. 2, Spring 2014)