Spring 2002 • Vol. XXIV No. 2 PoetryApril 1, 2002 |

Queen

                               Net suits & smoking cups, you reek fear. If we fight back, or if there isn't enough, you seek me out with gloved fingers to crush my head. When we sting you scream. We know why you carry our white boxes to the edge of the alfalfa, to the figs & raspberries. You take our honey because we let you. We pollinate the fields because we are the fields.

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Nick Flynn is the author of Some Ether (Graywolf Press, 2000). The poems in this issue are from his latest book, Blind Huber, due out from Graywolf this year. He is a recipient of a Witter Bynner Fellowship from the Library of Congress and recently received a Guggenheim Fellowship.

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                               Net suits & smoking cups, you reek fear. If we fight back, or if there isn't enough, you seek me out with gloved fingers to crush my head. When we […]

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                               Net suits & smoking cups, you reek fear. If we fight back, or if there isn't enough, you seek me out with gloved fingers to crush my head. When we […]

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