Wasp Thinking

I am so good at doing nothing,

when a wasp flies in the gazebo with me

and hovers about in the roof thinking,

There’s paperwork to be done in here,

I can read what else is on its mind:

September, nearly October, eh?

I don’t think anyone knows where I am.

Canada! How slender my waist!

What a delightful deal I am given—

to be in this world with mare’s tails streaking 

an otherwise pure-blue, mackerel sky!

Holy mackerel! Who cares what gets done!