While Looking Up at a Working Wasp, I Trip
How do these things I once barely acknowledged
now snare toes or twist ankles, causing me to stumble,
spill coffee and curse. Steps, rocks, pavement, curbs.
Door sills. No matter which, without provocation.
Solitary wasps mate not in flight but in the vicinity
of their nesting area. Three years ago a female
violated our unspoken agreement of mutual
existence; my arm purpled and ballooned
to twice its normal size, and I demolished her nest
for fear that attacks would become habit. Today,
another builds in the same spot. I stoop by,
beneath notice, as she labors to make room
for eggs fertilized with stored sperm from a single
drone. Such diligence should earn rewards.
I stroll to the mailbox and marvel at their ability
to manufacture wood pulp for nests, how
certain species avoid mating with siblings
on the basis of chemical signatures, and that
they voluntarily control the sex of their offspring.
Ah, the wonders of nature! Approaching the door,
I look up and observe the growing nest with
admiration, enter the house without stumbling,
and inhale the fragrance of the perfectly arranged
lilies. The books on the table entice me, so I
pour a glass of malbec and thumb through them
with great pleasure. Soon, after sunset, she will die.
* * *
“While Looking Up at a Working Wasp, I Trip” was published in MockingHeart Review in May 2018.
O at the Edges 
I think (not sure) but I am allergic to hornets. A long time ago (I was probably 11 or 12) I was at a friends house. We were outside and he pointed to this very large hornet’s nest near his house. He told me to be careful of the bees.
Some time passed and I went home. When I got home my whole arm was paralyzed. I could not feel or move it. I nearly freaked out but my mom took care of me until the strange paralysis went away.
I didn’t feel the sting of the hornet. So I can not say the paralysis was caused by the bees. Just a very strange coincidence that after seeing the nest I came down with this strange paralysis.
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Ouch! I don’t know that I’m allergic to wasp stings, but I am intolerant. Two of the last three stings led to trips to the doctor for antibiotics. But I definitely felt the stings – they felt like someone had clobbered me with a 2 x 4.
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right. i should have felt the sting. so my arm never did that again. strange occurrence
.
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That is so odd!
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Exquisite … If Loren Eiseley were a poet ….
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I admire the concept of wasps. But having been stung a zillion times, I’ve been forced to deal with their actuality. Alas.
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Haunting. Beautiful.
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Thank you, Craig. I generally co-exist peacefully with wasps, but when they get aggressive, I respond, especially since their stings have sent me to doctors…
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Yes, they are beautiful but terrifying creatures. I remember clearing out nests with my father many years ago–a comical, scary affair.
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I have run from wasps more than any other creature!
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oh my goodness, only you can write beautifully about wasps. They are dreadful creatures in my eyes. btw, intolerant now could become anaphylaxis in a future sting.. — I always wear a hat outdoors with the hope that they dont see a person with sweet skin under the hat. 🙂
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When I owned a rural property in Texas I had frequent encounters with wasps. I can’t count the number of times they bounced off of my straw hat. Now the encounters are rare.
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ah, so the hat worked. Better off the hat than off your arm. 🙂
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Or my head!
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they’ve bitten you on the head too?
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Only once. Knocked me to my knees. It felt like someone had hit me with a baseball bat.
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Loved the whole mood of the poem…
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Thank you, Rajani.
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