yellow jacket bassanova

it could have been the music
the way they came
out

when the steps tipped up

to meet the winery roof
that song a color

spun

from a burning white tent
the color of peeling legs
noses
lipstick      barbecue sauce
the heat
that fell over the vineyards
like red gauze
as if they could tell
i was bleeding
for the second time
this month
whirring between my legs
those yellow suits
zeroing in      making me dance
my legs loose sticks
bare feet on a grill
if i put one between my lips
(just to feel the buzz)
would the others follow?
strange genealogy
those bees in my veins

tiny dates      and names

coiled around a tree
dropped on the table
pictures of dna scrawled
on ketchup spotted
napkins      and me
tacked to a kitchen wall
hissing at fists
"go ahead hit me then i dare you"
strange melody
those stingers  drawn to blood
or broken glass

do they all have red faces

(and a rose in their teeth?)
and did i tell you
how i wore
a red shirt and the bees
came
attracted
(carrie said)
by a scent
pork ribs or sunscreen
it's not bees after all but bulls
that like red
and definitely
that dance was red

ãElizabeth Terry
9/12/1993