bottle-rocket pop-gun pressure-burst no one can wait
fireworks started before the sun set, before dusk was
even a whisper under the sky’s tongue, before anxiety
could even think to prepare for what was coming, not
my anxiety but the thunder-vest-dogs of us all, the
bass-thump of us, the sun setting like a curtain to a
standing ovation of chemical explosion begging the
world for reason to live, or else celebrate, or else cause
someone, somewhere to cower, can you hear-tell the
difference between firework and gunshot, the answer
is fear, the answer is shake, the answer is home, of course
BEE LB is an array of letters, bound to impulse; a writer creating delicate connections. they have called any number of places home; currently, a single yellow wall in Michigan. they have been published in FOLIO, Roanoke Review, Figure 1, and The Offing, among others. their portfolio can be found at twinbrights.carrd.co