deepundergroundpoetry.com

the ants are back_18/30

after a winter
of snooze
they busily send out  
sorties to scout out
the land
of my kitchen
 
They congregate
in the pan
stacked upon another
the food hidden
from the one
revealed to the other
thanks to the ants
and me
 
I do not want
to kill these little bastards
so I sweep them off
as best I can
letting them fall
through the air
like bungee-jumpers
without the bungees
 
I feel a slight
twinge of guilt:
can we not co-exist?
 
Do they not
have inalienable rights?
What say you,
Thomas Jefferson
slave owner
who knew it was wrong
but did it
anyway.
 
In the gnostic gospels
Jesus is quoted as saying,
split open a piece of wood
and I am there
 
Turn over a rock
and you will see my face
 
I have tried that
and saw myriads of small
creeping things
which we call
ants
pissed-off
because of  
my intrustion
 
but no face of Jesus
unless of course
his face is like unto
the face of ants
 
but turn over a rock
and I see
something different:
my face
attempting to hide
from my face
from the ants
from Jesus
from whatever else
this day has in store
for me
and Jesus
and the ants.
 
There remains of course
the nuclear option:
bug spray
but we won't go there
just yet.
possibly soon
very soon
Written by Mrd
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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