The first time I read Nick Flynn’s poem, Hive, I was moved past the point of language. Although there are many poets whose craft makes me swoon, few poems take away my breath. This is one.
The intimacy of the poem asked for deep consideration; the image is taken from the biology of the honey bee and printed with varnish (not ink), the saffron color of the paper very consciously made during the summer of 2014, and idea for the gold dust honeycomb cells came from a conversation with Patrick JB Flynn. The text is printed in a deep burgundy that can only be seen when catching the sunlight.
Although I’ve not yet addressed it in my artist’s statement, I am intrigued by the vanished and the unseen. The Great Library of Alexandria. Atlantis and Lemuria. “Dead” languages. Bees inside the wall. The unspoken crush that remains unspoken and the aftermath of one expressed.
The Permissions Company requires that several broadsides be sent to the poet. I hope he finds them worthy.