Poem 289

Sparking trolley bus poles and new bright yellow livery obviously also sparked this …

( I like the evening dark and light of this, the meshed insect and human busy-ness and the macro-micro equivalence of grains of pollen and grains of people … )

From On High

Trolley buses at night windows lit
are wasps
ferrying through the dark air of a garden
the roads bands of fragrance they follow
brushing aromatic sparks off their antennae
each stop a sexual detonation of light
splintering its colour into a city of colour
a spring suffocation

these are just buses but filled with the yellow
wasps are stamped in
                                         plus the same
level business sense a one-second stand
at each flower
                           the lifting
and putting down
of grains