Wasp Lore

I've hung jars of jam and water,
and felt not a jot of remorse,
counting 19, 20 drowned bodies.

anthropomorphise,
to really hate something so small,
to flail like a `dementor`,
to panic as if encroaching disaster was actually monstrous,
the fear of the `sting`.

They don't die you know,
they keep on stinging,
and don't tell me to `keep still!` That doesn't work.

We infect our children with the same fear,
and then the stories,
the 2 up the trouser leg,
that feels so much more
than an urban myth.

The worst thing?
They seem to be arrogantly, urgently,
determined to get you.