You kept flying in through
my window this morning,
at the gas station,
when I was trying to
write a poem,

and I have no fear of

bees, so I let you
buzz about my life,
hoping, at some point,

that you would just

fly away and go
about your busy

but you didn’t.

You started landing
on my arm and shit,
and so, when I’d
had enough,
I swatted you

with my Jesus hat, like
a giant or a god, and

there you were, on my
dashboard, dying, with
your little black legs
twitching, and

that made me cry.

I am so sorry.

All life is precious,

even yours.

Please forgive me,
but you left me no
other choice, still,

if it’s any
to you, I felt

like a soulless


all day long.



Copyright 2019 by Sean Rima.

“Poems” by Sean Rima relase date: May 11.