Killer Wasps

I hear them scratching in the middle of the night
I hear the voices in the walls
there's a bird trapped in the chimney
i hear him when the lights turn low
i run the water and it splutters in the bowl
irises and yellow flag and crimson daisies grow
beyond the wall there lies a dusty bed of stones
i see them when the lights turn low
i am the sole recipient of autumn's vivid dream
i see things where there are not things
i see things you've never seen
i see rats around the edges
of the crevices and holes
i am the final great believer
in the twisting of the human soul
i taste the water but i do not swallow down
angels and promises have run me out of town
there's a bird trapped in the chimney
i hear him when the lights turn low
i am the sole beneficiary of winter's broken scheme
there are stones around my ankles
they are tied to me with string
sixteen hives of killer wasps
and seventeen of bees
i hear them when the lights turn low