insects
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A procession of ants march on foreverto their labyrinth abode undergroundcarrying crumbs we left behind,they militarily reorganizeafter kicking down their mound.
The insects are at peace.
Living their lives essentially pleased.
It doesn't take much to fulfill their needs.
How are they so strong, and I so weak?
I feel so scared and weak.
PAINTED LADY
“With a worm like fury body and three pairs of legs,
I was made...
to eat leaves and plants, was my given trade.
I crawl on the ground and climb up trees,
knowing one day soon,
I am the agent of fear.
I put fear in the big and small.
I make the strongest run away.
My sting can make a pale arm turn red
Or cause eyes to roll back with repeated blows.
On schoolbuses, girls scream.
Crickets in my chest
In my stomach there are butterflies
Ants in my hands and my feet
Spiders crawling across my back
I hate insects
But when I look at you
I forget that I hate them
Cascading inward cutting amble down across sticks
Into the blacked, moonlit night
Creating an orchestra throughout the forests from mountain to sea consisting only of chirps
and clicks
Women are like gnats.
They only come in packs.
Some nights they don’t show up,
Some nights they just attack.
What’s worst about them, though,
Is that when they’re finally done,
Watching ants mill through the cracked moss bricks, living their tiny lives.
Squirming with six legs, through divets that seem like crators.
Small cracks, that are mountains,
Weeds, that are jungles,
You feel it coming,
You always do.
The creepy crawlies are coming for you.
They itch, you scratch,
The Rain
It Falls.
Those Cannonballs
Exploding Upon
The Ground.
Destruction
Our Home
It Crumbles.
My Sisters
They Drown.
The Life of an Ant
Five butterflies whirr around my head--
playing catch-me-if-you-can with each other's glowing, neon flutter.
I'm elated to see these spectacular creatures in orbit around me,
