Type A Honey (1999)

Type A Honey

I am living in a bee’s cave without work,

The hive is a productive one.

Perhaps I should provide a chronicle of the hives events,

The other bees don’t seem to mind,

That I do not make honey.

Sometimes I feel as though I am living in slow motion,

Or rather that I stop and start so many times.

I cannot dance as fast as drones,

Their dance is complex and symbolic,

In slow motion you can see this even more clearly.

It seems like a lot of work,

In order to make honey.

I leave the cave–surprised to see,

The meadow is still flowering,

The world is wide without the walls–yet not as intricate.

The beekeeper wears his suit,

I give him my diary and he asks for honey. 

(1999)