Untitled. For now, The Bees.

The bees were gassed out of their hive.
They used to live in the outer wall of our apartment,
the one with the big window
that opened like a sore on our living room.

They fell onto our carpet, struggling in the haze
of chemical confusion. Every twitch
blurred by dying cells.

He scooped their little carcasses off the carpet
and threw them into the trash. Their wings
and exoskeleton must have scraped
the plastic trash bag

and though they did not intend it,
this sound said hush.