Beekeeping

The Beekeeper
Cat Schappach
@catschappach

The bees have all left this country.
But the equinoctial garden does not know.
Its buds beckon with cupped hands.
The maladroit keeper is scrubbing the hive.
He picks at old wax like an eczema scab.

This country has lost all its queens.
But the hegemons do not seem to notice.
The flowers shrivel, suspecting their infertility.
And its women are arranged in agricultural order.
Womb first, and head last, the last honey spilled.



This amazing work of art was a gift from the amazingly talented Cat Schappach.

In My Absence

Misplaced
@mc_monster
Used With Permission

This fallout-shelter mentality requires
a love of three things:
Bedrock, can-openers,
and the odour of dirt in confined spaces.
You should comprehend the virtue of trauma,
know a certain risqué joy
in the unashamed sacrifice
and thrive on toxicity, unafraid to measure
the half-life of your human heart’s slow decay.
And forego a happy ending.



Prompts, I have missed....

Guest Listed! with Helen Dehner, Monday, September 9

Out of Standard with Izy Gruye, Monday, September 16

.... In 55 Belated Words!

Medusa

A Portrait in Contemplation

The Seamstress
@catschappach
Used With Permission

I’ve attempted to make up my mind:
to settle on one ideal above
a dozen practicalities…
but each thought slides away
which was, even now, on the tip of my tongue.

I am the seamstress of my misfortune:
the designer of this bespoke
snakeskin suit…
my hands, the implements of chaos,
have woven an obtuse pattern of scales.

Even the Spring is unseasonable:
thorns are growing through
sharper than needles…
and self-healing is but another
way of unravelling my imprecise stitches.

A woman is ever conscious of her womb:
knows the possibilities birthed
by slippery carnality…
What constricts may not kill
but this sly smile hides my certain fangs.


Art FLASH!  features the surreal art of Cat Scappach.