The courtyard is a ticker-tape
extravaganza of faces and
shattering like cymbals.
It is a nest of hornets-
a swarm of bodies humming
in one indistinguishable mass
their sharp, dark mouths fashioning
the circumference of their social combs.
Fluorescent sheen of lecture halls
bleed to darkened, narrow
Nonsensical shouts shatter the thin
air of a cafeteria simmering
toward a final point of tension,
taut as a wire-
it reminds me of the schizophrenics
and manic patients from the ward.
Under a mind bent like a nest of wires
this horde is unintelligible.
They could turn on me.
I lean furiously into the minute
moments of silence,
adorn myself in them
like threads of silk.
They are dangerous as the red-soaked
appeal of the poppy,
gleaming from within her red ruff,
in her veiled hoard of opium.
Out of a hive of minds
I have distilled myself to a point
fine as a hooked black sting.
I am high on pheromones,
buzzing and flying, buzzing and flying
out from the centre of a startled swarm
a vicious-winged, honeyed thing!
Lorcán Black is a poet and writer from the Republic of Ireland, now living in London. His poetry has been published or is forthcoming in Blue Lyra Review, Apogee Journal, Harbinger Asylum, The Chiron Review, The Great British Write-Off Anthology 2015, Eunoia Review, Octavious Magazine, & Boyne Berries: Issue 17 & Issue 14, among various others. He is Editor in Chief of Anomaly Literary Journal.