Remain Champagne - BEES BEES CUMMINGS

I’m starting to hike. I’m starting to climb. In the hills around Griffith Park. Because I got stung by that one bee that one time though, I slow down whenever I hear a bush a-buzzin’. What the hell would I do if I got swarmed on one of the literally off-the-beaten-path paths that I sometimes take? Probably say “sorry” a lot. Took one of those paths the other day I’d never taken before. And it never fails. I’ll get close to one of those—I don’t know what they’re called—yellow bushes and I’ll hear a veritable symphony of bees in there, getting ready, warming up, like they’re preparing for a recital. And I always slow down. I always take it easy around those bushes. Like, maybe they won’t notice this giant nerd with the bright red water bottle trudging by if I’m just quiet. See, I didn’t do anything to provoke that first bee sting two months ago, so I keep thinking it’s just a matter of time before I’m peppered with a bunch of pissed off bees with no warning. Aren’t they supposed to give you a warning first? Like a memo? Like a cease and desist letter? ‘Cause I can cease and desist like a champ! I’ll desist anytime! I’m desisting right now, in a way! In fact, usually the first thing I do in the morning is stop doing something.

I gotta pretend like I know something about e.e. cummings today. For this teacher part. I gotta pretend to teach this poem:

***

anyone lived in a pretty how town

with up so floating many bells down)

spring summer autumn winter

he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)

cared for anyone not at all

they sowed their isn't they reaped their same

sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few

and down they forgot as up they grew

autumn winter spring summer)

that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf

she laughed his joy she cried his grief

bird by snow and stir by still

anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones

laughed their cryings and did their dance

(sleep wake hope and then)they

said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon

(and only the snow can begin to explain

how children are apt to forget to remember

with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess

(and noone stooped to kiss his face)

busy folk buried them side by side

little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep

and more by more they dream their sleep

noone and anyone earth by april

wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)

summer autumn winter spring

reaped their sowing and went their came

sun moon stars rain

***

In Canoga Park.

I remain

Champagne