The God of Small Things
Genesis 1:26-28
The man lifts up the wood of beehive lid
And puffs some pine-straw smoke inside the space.
In panic bees begin to swarm and skid
Around to find escape from fire. No trace
Of guilt invades the minds of men who trick

These orange nuns who buzz around in fear.
Their nunnery invaded, they are quick
To try to save God’s colony. The gear
Of desperation placed in them by Christ
Is pitiful. Jehovah is their foe,
Their real one, not the man who came to heist
Their honey. How could these poor creatures know?
He hauls away the supers filled with comb
From hard devotion to their helpless home.
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