My Queen, Governors and fellow drones,
on this most arid of mornings
our new city hums in hexagonal cells. This very day,
the manufacture of paper increases exponentially.
Our vaults, and each of us, are filled with common
purpose.
All futures are of course larval and we know
incidence of sting can go up or down,
yet we still promise always to pay the bearer in full.
Let this be the year of wasps, high summer
sustainable with the endless ooze of sugars;
the entitlement of wasps. Buzz with risk.
Go now, take your commission: al fresco breakfasts
of pastries and jam, then golden picnic afternoons.
Levy ice cream from the lip of every man, woman and
child.
Published 2016. Very funny - to be recited aloud, but by a trained actor rather than by any old poet.
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