ants are the eternal doom
bestowed upon by
the inattentive,
existing in the cracks
and places of our fortifications.
they reek of some blatant failure,
a misunderstanding of creating
a private space.
forever, they interdict, they dig, basically
without stopping. Their form mostly
activity.
I see an ant in my space and not theirs,
the reckoning, the reckoning.
I both am paralyzed and mobilized,
I know there lie more than living possible.
An ant is mainly nothing,
And yet they have a persistence unknowing,
If an ant but die it matters little,
Such tiny stake, such forceful ways.
There is no winning the war of ant,
Some wretched hidden harmony,
Some accursed unhinged respit,
Leave me be, suffer greatly,
and in some distant future
congrats,
on this last supper.
