it takes effort for the heavy girl
to bend over in the parking lot to find the distressed bee
just beyond the handicapped spot
minutes pass as i fiddle with my open case
she finds a piece of paper opposite of walking the plank for which to ferry the subject away from zillion tires
she's sincere and oblivious returning from the store with a plastic stick of honey
i ask if she's ever seen the movie vanishing of she says no and keeps up miracle cpr
she sets up triage on a bench as i milk the cosmos with a broke right arm and no lunch crowd
she makes a spot of no alcohol mead on a horrid bleached napkin with the lethargic patient unable to roll over much less flap toward independence
she takes the bee on the napkin to where the in security guard sits and says They're Yours to which he sez some people are allergic looking specious as per his profession
i take the bee and dump it in the bush most respectfully
and not 4 minutes later
a bee lands two feet from my violin case, the first or second bee for miles and miles and inches
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