ground bees

there are not enough places to hide.
i walk around with a trowel
& a gun. the gun is full
of goat eyes. all night i am screaming
into a plastic bag. a hole in the bottom
means that the mosquitos can slip out
& drink as much as they want.
i tell you i need a delicata squash
& you are busy in a digital lavender field.
no one is going to remember 
who is the vampire & who is the vampire catcher.
i keep inventing futures 
where there are no open spaces,
only cracks i can pour my face into.
a pill bug arrives on the porch every morning
to deliver a prophecy. too bad i don't know
what he's saying. we once ate a skull together
while sitting over a mountain river.
you said, "this tastes like honey."
the sky bleeds & i try to stich it shut.
you smile at me sometimes like
i'm a dime. i can be okay 
with being a dime. the little face 
of a false god. if i had a place to go
i would stay there for centuries. i would
watch time turn & then, when it was all over
i would walk out & etch the credits 
into sand. look, here is who made 
the sunroof & here is who first
spoke softly enough to the corn 
for it to turn white & purple. 
the bees are writing the history of the world
in their secret bus stations. 
i wish only to join them.