a poem by Karl Koweski (2 of 2)

the hive

while she's washing herself
following our second go
I draw back the curtains
of the hotel room

fifteen tiers up
the whole place looks
like an industrial hive
thousands of honeycombs
of curtained glass
rows stacked on rows
stacked on rows
I almost expect to see
winged humanoids buzzing
from one floor to the next

so many drones
going about drone business
and only one queen
in the entire hive
and I have her

for this one night
I am not the king
but I am the queen's man

© by Karl Koweski
 
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #5 ~ September 2009    previous poem