295. by molly! this bee, on its side, on the street

by molly! this bee, on its side, in the street
was looking quite poorly — the martian released it
too early (had, soon) after sampling its stool,
and testing its brainwaves intelligence (for) useful

martians might seem, for their eyes and their green
scaly striped skin, their high-pitched death screams,
a universally perfect alien person,
but martians have problems, and bees are reserved, if

you try to out-squish through their eyes or their gills
their brain matter tiny (it’s minuscule), milk
the collective bee wisdom years from (in millions),
they might their restraints (from) the road onto drip

the martian (unnamed — they’ve got badges to place them)
had found this bee flying the flowers (the way to) —
typical if you’ve earth upon lived,
it’s not that exciting if outer space isn’t

martians aren’t stupid, consider the view from
a planet the solar system deep space into, it’s
not that far, sure, in relation to worms
that live in the gaps before galaxies form

they just can’t connect with the minor insects —
they might find a beetle, if massive (if heavy) —
the lack information (of) arthropods space from
is for martians THE PRESSING WHOLE PROBLEM OF AGES

if you’d been abandoned a stretch of red land (on)
the empty black void (in) with no-one to ask if
a bee (as described in documentaries science)
is made out of copper or made out of iron

you’d understand, then, this martian dilemma,
and understand why this martian had severed
this bee (as he found it — for searching, he’d doubted,
for bees are quite small and martians the clouds in)

there’s much more to learn (for martians concerned)
of impending bee shortages (the radio learned from),
and now that it’s dead, who know’s if he’ll ever —
then he discovered there’s billions (there’s many)
(cont.)