Look, I don’t care if you put a penny
over the sting I left you or not.
Big oaf with your giant flip-flop shoes
and your sweaty, pink arms waving
and your stupid hands slapping.
You and your friend Suzy, always
out gardening when those of us
who live here are just trying
to get our work done—
our horneting, our wasping,
our beeing. In the meantime,
the hornets were attacking Suzy,
you say? Got news for you:
That was all me. I’m just
that much hornet, too much
for you and Suzy and all your
penny-hoarding friends.
Tell Dr. Mike I said hello, that
I’ll be seeing him one evening
very soon—very soon, when
he’s out on his driveway, all
unsuspecting, and I’ll be there
readying my venom, watching
for him with segmented eyes.

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Copper Pennies and Bee Stings