Tag: Hive Mentality

I’m No Expert

Aw, don’t get all bent out of shape,
Mr. Piece of Paper Man.
I didn’t mean to wrinkle you, honest!
Jeez, quit looking up at me
with that blank expression,
it’s killing me! Death
by a million paper cuts
is to be my fate? I shall instead
jump into an ocean of bees, so
I may avoid such a tedious
and painful end.

I love the bees,
the bees are my friends
now and forever (or at least
until one of our species goes extinct,
which could be any minute now).
They welcome me with open wings
and usher me to their queen,
bragging about the human
they just bagged–at least,
that’s what their elated buzzing
sounds like to me, but I’m no expert
in hive linguistics.

Party Scene – 22:09GMT

Ah, the old party scene–jumbled oxymorons come standard, usually revealed as anecdotes directed at unwilling audience members while a belligerent man of means whips out his… billfold and graces us with his… financial stability–for at least a few minutes. Then he dashes off to some other event, leaving his words to be digested like a goblet of substandard table wine–red, just red–and a can of shitty baked beans.

The kitchen, meanwhile, takes some uncommon patience, the wages not justified for the bodily exertion if you want people to come back to your particular eatery. Business plows forward every day, unaware of the human element, the possibility of crashing and burning starkly inevitable.

Worker ants file into their high rises, readily subjugated for profit.

You guys wouldn’t know anything about the perpetuation of that particular paradigm, now would you? No, of course not.

I really wish I could use my arms.