By David Francis
THE WASP IN THE PRACTICE ROOM It’s taken three days to discover how the wasp came into this room. The vents. I watch the wasp walking upside-down on the ceiling. I rather admire him. I keep a respectful distance. I’ve spent hours before, snaring insects into cups -- feeling that a noble course in a day of dying seconds. I have a conscience. Acute by depression of force, I have no urge to hurt tiny living beings. But my brother, a child, comes to this room, mornings. He plays a special drum I gave to him. In fact, I made it for him. I must kill the wasp. I can’t catch him. He has his arguments in his stinger. No one likes to feel that in his tired flesh. I revel in the phenomenon of the soul. My thoughts are resolute; I must kill the wasp and I do so. My soul, however, hates nature. It is dissatisfied with situations, events. The soul is skeptical of lesser evils. The soul doubts.
David Francis has produced seven music albums, Always/Far: a chapbook of lyrics and drawings, and Poems from Argentina (Kelsay Books). He has written and directed the films, Village Folksinger
(2013) and Memory Journey (2018). He lives in New York City.
PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL