“Yellowjackets” by Bruce Morton

Photo Credit: Bernd Dittrich

Each year we have the same argument.

Are they yellowjackets, bees, or wasps?

Each year we compromise; they are assholes.

We peel our eyes for their industry—

Nooks and overhangs where they spit

Their gray maché nests. When we notice

Them we evict forthwith without notice,

By dint of stick, smoke, or spray. Which

Incites their ire, a fury so dire that a sting

Will linger for days. It is an annual ritual—

They persist and we resist. But what stings

Most is the nature of things, that no matter

What we have done, when we are long gone,

They will not give our absence any notice.

Artist Statement

Humans’ place in the natural scheme of things.

It has been said that my poems are at or near the intersection of existentialism, nihilism, and stoicism—often served with ham on wry.

Bruce Morton divides his time between Montana and Arizona. He is the author of Planet Mort (FootHills Publishing, 2024) and the chapbook Olive-drab Khaki Blues (FootHills, 2026). His poems have appeared in numerous online and print venues. He was formerly dean at the Montana State University library.