The drama unfolds in the shadowy
Theatre. The audience has stayed away.
The compound eye of the stuck fly can see
With terrifying clarity the way
The drooling spider has written his play.
Approaching with Hitchcockian suspense,
The clicking mandibles approach their prey,
Saying grace to their god in recompense
For evolution’s benefits. Far hence,
Meanwhile, from this small garden shed, the bee,
Three streets away, while trying to make hay,
Between the flowers and the garden fence,
Becomes the hero of a tragedy,
Stinging the small child innocently in his way.
Sat 10 Mar 2007
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