- Bloom
The bees are dying toward Beverly HillsThe bees are dying into the sun
At midnight it is day the beesOf Santa Monica our oranges
Fall sideways toward no beginning theBees are dying America in the teeth
By waxlight our bees brim upFrom no well they have
Left their reflections on the iceOf eternity the bees are dying in our
Talk of beginning this young countryTheir hives follow the names down
On Alvarado by the light of swansWe go crossing our sunglasses into oblivion
The hands of the Indians are buriedEverywhere nothing grows the feet of the Tongva
Are gathering in white shadows weForget them the shadows convulse
We announce ourselves upward into teethA cowboy hat without its body the bees
On Sepulveda a wheelchair and silenceIn our mouths the sea forgets
We wake our way down the processesBlooming everywhere the actions of our hands [End Page 110]
Chad Sweeney is the author of six collections of poetry, including Little Million Doors (2019), and two books of translation (Farsi and Spanish). His poems have appeared in Best American Poetry, The Pushcart Prize Anthology, New American Writing, and elsewhere. He is an associate professor of creative writing at California State University, San Bernardino, where he edits Ghost Town Literary Journal.