Friday, January 26, 2007

THE DISTRESS OF THE ANT


In Memoriam - Maury


I befriended an ant one hot, dry, Saturday afternoon
baked in Pueblo, Colorado
I watched him so closely, fascinated
as he sat up, balancing on two fragile splayed legs and rotated his proboscis

Athletically he covered the cardboard-edge terrain that I held aloft before my observing eyes
an impossible height to him

I flicked him on my futon mattress, my place of peaceful rest
I mercilessly manipulated his incredible little life
I raced him before me over and over as I studied his amazing little intricacies
how the legs received commands from the tiniest of brains

Red and orange with a black bulbous rear
pincers for a mouth
I imagined all that he might eat
crumbs, other wonderfully detailed insects
I thought about the constant murderous predation of all life

Wonder unexpectedly turned to a barbaric urge-
I hit the ant as he scurried along his way, my pen cap crashing on him
as an asteroid falling to earth would

Pinned beneath the overhead impact of the black plastic pen cap and the soft futon mattress beneath
his panic evident not by his expression
but by the blurring, rapid motion of his thinnest of twig legs
The Distress Of The Ant
while fleeing, again the pen cap came crashing close
then directly hit, and hit again, and missed, then hit, then missed
another miss, then a hit, then another, and another...

I unceremoniously beat my ant friend to death
his curled corpse and I were close together
both of us suffering in the consequence of my decision to murder
The irreversibility of my actions




A Classic From 1998 New Jersey

The booty call is resounding
seems to blow through treetops
I don't want to ignore it
don't want to pretend that it doesn't pull me

The alcohol fuels it
the flames higher, licking
a starry sky with flicking tongues

Tantalizing bonfire
I want to call Berkley Heights
drive there if I could remember the number
Damn
Alcohol