Worldliness

by Nathan Parker

this is one of those marble sills on which slumps a wasp-plundered orange some tattered fruit flies passing peel skives like volunteers at a fire a queen logged with pulp whose zeal has left her to choke on a seed I begin compressions with the safe side of a pin harder sir she gasps faster sir she gasps where am I again and by the way that's not a problem let me fetch something smaller I'll crumb the way with wings and seeds like that the orange is deserted I think I hear a weed eater she easily distracts me grinning arching her stinger in the air