The Traveler

The Traveler

"Look at it!" She said, and Peter climbed the tree,
ripped his pants, came down with the hive,
sap sweating from his hair, the bees pissed off
and pouting on runaway limbs.

"This is what it's all about," Peter said, dunking
his fist into the hive's mouth, lifting honey to his tongue.
"This is just like Madagascar. Try Some."
She licked his fingers. This is Madagascar?
"Yes," said Peter, flicking ants off his leg,
"and this, right here, is just like a war."