Waitangi day night
A queen sent
emissaries
as I checked
the rat trap
for a licker
lover of
peanut
butter inside the
ceiling of
my whare
on Waitangi
day night
That wasp
stung me inside
my ear, I
heard the vibrating
wings notch
up but too
late my
instinctual alarm
bell rang,
too late for me
on Waitangi
day night
Their paper
home has grown
and my ear has
swollen so i
cannot hear
their voices
entreating the
benefits of
a queen
constantly begetting
on Waitangi
day night
I huddle inside
a fern now,
my old whare
adorned with
photos of a
queen, a tidal
current I
see, head-high as
sweeping so
clean, me
on Waitangi
day night
