A drunk bee stumbles from stem to bloom to other blooms.
floating through this purple plant with beak-shaped cups.
Sharp zagging mass.
Wings at 80 flaps per second.
The day is gold and shadow.
Deep-blue sky, back-dropped by space.
The flapping of the face-sized pad of petaled flower makes me see people
that aren’t there.
My mind wanders to other things.
Having highly hoped he’d helped his hapless humors.