Bees, Words and Dead Flies

I didn't have time to post this earlier, but after my very interesting conversation with my friend today (that started at a decent time in the morning and hurled us both so quickly into the afternoon), words came at me. We had ended our conversation with her telling me about the wasps that had attacked her honey bees and how they were out to get her ever since she doused their nest (but that's another story - and it's hers so I won't be telling it). Well, as I sat at my computer again, these words just came at me from nowhere. I closed my eyes and just let my fingers dance in the dark. And this is what they typed:

words tumble
and roll off the page at will.
they shake and drop
to the floor like dead flies.
some attack me around my ankles
and I stamp them out
and I hear them squeal
still
I have no mercy.
They tremble and shake
as they tumble off the page
where my poems used to be,
and all I can do is watch in disbelief,
till they attack -

and then I stomp.

(image by Marina Camargo)