Children’s games

Children play a game 
where someone lives 
& someone dies.

From inside it looks real.

I never understood 
blaming the coyote for eating the cat
or poisoning wasps 
		or setting traps for fear

Last night I caught a honeybee in a jar
& watched it die.
Poison for pleasure 
or maybe
poison your pleasure. 

Something still tells me to close my umbrella inside, 
			  something says swat.                                         

I have scars from my last speculation, 
when cold water failed, 
when blood 
replaced lipstick.
	                Indomitable, you said. 
	         a bomb in a bowl 
under the bed.

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