The Honeybees Scatter

Words are exchanged,
then people file onto the street.
Shirtless red faced jocks
wailing back and forth
in tongues.
One of the red necks finally takes a swing
at the other,
and soon
there is a swarm of twenty
or so               
beating down the one
into the street.
Punching and kicking and elbowing
in numbers.
They look like bees
over honeycomb.
The girls stand back (a safe distance)
near the parked cars
by the curb.                 
Cheering and jeering
and spurring
the frenzy
on.                             

A squad car arrives
and the honeybees
scatter.

There is much light
and malt glass
promise.

It is Friday.

I am drunk.
The bar is open
until two
and someone
outside

needs
stitches.