Murder-hornets shiv’d our cicada brood, film at eleven

17 years
On pomegranate sugars, dates and the pollen of poppies.
Cicadas rise great of expectation
End having eaten only air
Whither their will to dare?
Sleepy hornets
Spring forth
Trail thrusts of barb’d death
Sting black & blue
The retarded of the brood
Who retreat toxin-addled
Click go-facedown clack.
This, victory
This, triumph
This, legacy
A hasty fresco of victory sketched on gypsum walls gone to mud.

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