Sean Borodale
30TH MAY: EXAMINING BROOD
30TH MAY: EXAMINING BROOD
Lifting the heavy brood frame weeping with bees
we are wax, translucent-feeling;
the weight already promises.
Being apiarists, we exploit this trust:
they let in our nerves.
They are impervious with process:
work-ethic tendency.
They do not pause
but play on in autoloop, and have phases.
We are in.
Jewellery box: I did not expect this strange calmness.
Eyes go steady with study of larvae,
womb, light, wax, bee eggs.
Still I have not seen the fountain of all,
where is she?
Must learn to find this instrument by heart.
One gold halo in a white room.
Neighbours-in-making, unlegged, unwinged.
No need for anything but mouth and anus now.
Will find flight.
This is a brain itself: congestion of language,
olfactory archive, register
of homeopathic light stored in amphorae.
You, bee man, lifting a frame to light, count only numbers.
You are human; what bees count must be more than parts.
Breathe on them your dream of honey-smeared taste.
They agitate and are in dream what sun pens.
Motherboard of many; each light, residual:
element, lumen, diode, valve.
This snapshot is vital; I take but cannot make.
I capture nothing - several drones are present.
Take note, they will be killed; should I take note?
