Poetry Sunday: "Was you ever bit by a dead bee?"

“Was you ever bit by a dead bee?”


I was, I was—by its posthumous chomp,
that I was, by the posthumous chomp
of an expired wire, you’ll bellow out prompt
at the pitiless shiv when she does what she does.
Was you? I was. By its posthumous chomp,
by its bad dab of venom, its joy-buzzer buzz.