Just thought of this poem by Les Murray (Sylvia Plath has one called The Swarm as well -much darker-neither the sort of thing DC intended I suspect)
The Swarm
by Les Murray
Of late there has been some loose talk about Australia becoming a republic
— Governor-General Sir John Kerr, 1976
On a stone wall, adrift from their hive
seeking shelter away from the wind
of a bitter blue day, this tight swarm
of brown English bees is adhering.
Poor monarchists, clumped round their queen,
they look like a furry, half-risen
loaf of gingerbread dough, with transparent
mica scales crusted on it: worn wings.
That animal, made up of lives,
drones, queen, dispensable workers —
we feel almost tempted to stroke it
but we know the terror, the venom
in those many clenched loyalists, whose rote
runs simply Some eat the royal jelly:
most do not. This is Right. Work and die.
What is, is, the clustered swarm murmurs.
Oh it is, some cool men with a smoke-pot
might smirk, and box them. Not us, though.
We must love and bypass them, like Nature,
since springtime or freedom would be loose talk indeed.