Sponsored by your local pest control service
The papered daub of wasps, it clings to trees
in layered latticework, a veil to hide
uncountable barbs, all buzzing and unified
behind unconscious urges, quite like disease.
If yoked together with a common drive
they might build cities, soaring edifice
with their mouth-pulped mindless artifice
A commune, bound to consume all alive.
But we can kill this mindless foe with ease,
Despite their grand accomplishments and plan
wasps die simply beneath chemical breeze
Despite their commune concord, one human
can press their thumb against a switch. And so
end all their little artificial dreams.