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Bombinate


Bumble melts off of the lips like the honey we steal.

Origins are unimportant when we have the hum of corporate in our ears.

Mounds of guilt collect like wax combs.

But we care not, as long as we get what we want.

Initially, we had the best of intentions, well,

Now the bees are disappearing, and guess who’s to blame?!

Allow my allusion to honey and bees, they are what you hear, but they aren’t what you see.

The real message lies in the television screens.

Endlessly buzzing, sounds of humming. 

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call-me-max

Hi my name is Max and this is my poetry.

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