I Manage My Dread of the Election by Reading About the Eradication of Murder Hornets

By Debbie Hall

In November we inched closer to the ledge over which one only falls once.
Mary Jo Bang

 

One definition of dread (noun): great fear in view of impending evil.
As a verb, it can mean to be in shrinking apprehension of.

Derived terms include: dreadable, dreadly, and dreadworthy, as in:
the specter of four more years of Trump is dreadworthy indeed.

It may seem counterintuitive to read about murder hornets
as an anti-anxiety strategy, but re-reading Poems for Political Disaster
only reinforced my terror of the possible.

When the first murder hornets were spotted, U.S. scientists warned
they could decimate honeybee populations and establish such a deep presence
in our country that all hope for eradication could be lost.

In May, the onslaught on just one colony: thousands and thousands
of bees, heads torn from their bodies, hives plundered, the remains of bees to be
harvested as food to sustain and grow more murder hornets. Dreadworthy.

But yesterday a reason for hope: Crews located and vacuumed out
a basketball-sized nest of murder hornets in Washington State.

Imagine watching this mass of orange-faced invaders, still spitting venom
as they are overthrown and dispatched to the netherworld—

Oh honeybees, oh Earth, oh people—imagine the sweetness of that moment!

 


Debbie Hall, a poetry editor at Writers Resist, is the author of the poetry collection, What Light I Have (2018, Main Street Rag Books) and award-winning chapbook, Falling into the River (2020, The Poetry Box). She received an honorable mention in the 2016 Kowit Poetry Prize and won second place in the 2018 Poetry Super Highway Contest.

Photo used via a Creative Commons license.