Ants, again. I watch them caravan
along the bottom of my cabinets, and file
into the one that holds the honey jar.
Oh no you don’t.
I coldly orchestrate their deaths. I smash
them with my middle finger, swipe them up
with a wet paper towel. Some wriggle
as I rinse them down the drain. I poison
them with bug spray. Two days later,
the ants reappear. Now I’m forced
to evacuate the contents of my cabinets;
scrub away any sugary residue; consolidate
the two half-full boxes of baking soda;
throw out the expired Oyster Sauce, a bag
of crystallized brown sugar and a packet
of lumpy Egg Drop Soup mix. Remaining
essentials are plastic-bagged, reassigned
on the shelves: ant-proof cabinet space,
sweet with symmetry.
6 thoughts on "ANTS POETICA"
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Gods—I’m foghting the same battle this year. They must be super-ants, born in the aftermath, and the origin story, of last year’s poisoning!
Great poem! Annoying as they are, I try to be grudgingly grateful when the ants force me to clean my kitchen. It usually takes me a while to get that much equanimity…
Great title! Who hasn’t struggled with the ant armies? Love the cheeky tone. “I coldly orchestrate their deaths.”
Love the title! and ‘smash them with my middle finger’!
We can all relate – you though find the balance of this chore
‘sweet with symmetry’!
the war with the ants is vividly portrayed! Enjoyed the poem.