ants

 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.