The beekeeper of Manhattan

Cherry

By lavadis

Wed, 04 Jun 2014
  • 1151 reads
2 comments
 
 
It was 7.38am
when the beekeeper's right eyelid
shot open 
like a parasol 
snatched up into the maw 
of a hurricane
 
The eye consumed the interior 
of the loft apartment 
on the corner of Alphabet City's 
Huston and 14th 
and followed the syrupy viscosity 
of the late April sun
as it traced a sibilant slug trail of glistening mitochondria 
across the discordant vinyl grooves 
of Queen's "Sheer Heart Attack" 
around the dark stuccoed lips 
of the long deceased 
Samoan doorman
up the mould lilies
which festooned the walls 
to the oven baked orange 
of the rusty nail head 
protruding from the 
beekeeper's left wrist 
 
Seconds effervesced and
decohered 
as the eye sashayed 
around the outline 
of the crucifix 
to which the beekeeper had been 
nailed 
 
'Memo to self'
said the beekeeper 
'I must be more careful 
about who I borrow money from.'
 
The eye caught the
Statin Island Ferry
before taking the Metro to the Hester Street Fair
where it found the antiquarian book dealer
basking in the aroma 
of freshly baked churros and 
Ecuadorian coffee - 
not the shit you got on the Upper East Side 
but genuine Arabica Loja 
from the foothills of Manabi
 
The right hand 
of the antiquarian book dealer 
was a torpedo
from the blood black waters 
of the Ligurian Sea 
and the left hand 
was a claw hammer 
pockmarked by
a hundred thousand 
tiny explosions
 
The eye took a cab 
to the northern end 
of Grand Street 
exiting just as the first metallic drops of rain 
sent the shoppers scuttling for cover 
like midget bullfighters 
before sliding along the flaxen skeleton 
of a sewer rat
up to the loft apartment 
just as the beekeeper's eyelids closed 
like a pair of feathers
falling 
onto a cannonball 
 
Certificate PG
Poem
Poetry

Comments

Submitted by Bee on

Fabulous and fantastic. And fascinating to watch in my mind. 

Bee

Submitted by lavadis on

Thank you very much indeed Bee