Halctidae are the species of bee that went in that woman’s eye in Thailand. They are Goth as fuck.
We have been happy here, well as happy as we ever are.
Being who we are, there’s an expectation that we maintain a miserable demeanor.
No gauche yellow stripes for us, no humming merrily among the bright and fragrant flowers.
We fly silent.
Black and shiny
We taste the sweat on the back of your neck.
We make our nests in your graveyards.
We wait for you to come and weep
And then we drink your grief.
The tiny goths of the hymenopterae.
The tear drinking grave bees
But when she came to tend her loved ones grave
She did not flinch from us
But gathered us gently, still pale and wriggling in the dirt.
She wanted us to see what she saw.
We traveled with her, grew under her protection
Such sights we saw.
Until the doctors gouged us out of her
And told our story.
And now we horrify and depress undreamed of billions.
We are Halctidae.
We are Hardcore.
Goths of the insect world.
Tom Juniper Poetry 