The Polite Wasp

So fly the wasps of strings and stings,
Straightforward in their venom and longer with heaven.
The bees are outside in this wild wilderness,
They start again with polite sound.

My warts and gems are enough to spurn luck,
This fortune obeying us is explicit,
Like the forever snows and pains,
That inside us burn to destroy.

I have many flies and warriors inside
To stomach and feed with their frenzy.
Frenzy is occult science now that you're here.