Monday, October 24, 2011

Late Autumn Wasp

    by James Hoch 

close up black and white photo of a wasp
One must admire the desperate way 
                it flings
itself through air amid winter’s slow 

and clings to shriveled fruit, dropped
                Coke bottle, 
any sugary residue, any unctuous

and slug-drunk grows stiff, its joints 
wings stale and oar-still, like a heart;
                yes, almost 

too easily like a heart the way, cudgeled,  
                it lies 
waiting for shift of season, light, a thing 
                to drink down, 

gnaw on, or, failing that, leaves half of
                itself torn
willingly, ever-quivering, in some 
                larger figure.

from: Miscreants. Copyright 2007. 

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