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
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