A HESITANT ODE TO A BUMBLE BEE

You there,
ya big, fat grumblin’
bumble bee,
you sound to me
like the chronically fuzzed-out
electro-static feedback
of a beat-up ’62 Fender Strat
(or maybe a ’63).
I see ya, there,
buzzin’ around the shimmering,
glistening early morning air,
sniffin’ about, here and there,
bobbin’ and weavin’, in and out
like a Mexican or South Korean
featherweight, in and out
and all around the newly blooming
Marigolds and Hyacinths
and those incessantly perfuming
Mimosas and Spearmints
and eros-inducing Linden trees…
Now, don’t you be
stingin’ on me!

-Jason Ryberg, 2012