The scariest thing about summer and
spring are the ant rivers.
Seemingly out of nowhere and sudden as
a shot, they disturb you to the point it
inspires you to write a poem, you've
been meaning to, and it's been 3 years.
When they show up it's a guessing game,
and all of a sudden make getting out of
bed to get a drink of water in the middle of
the night a risk, sometimes even during the day
To avoid tracking ants on your skin and
picking up any unwanted intruders, you
can't really feel them, you shuffle your feet
on the rug upon entering or exiting a room,
stepping carefully, avoiding the thick line
of invaders branching out from some
unknown crevice in the floor, a new needle
sized hole to seal, branching out in one
main wave and a few lesser flowing side
paths like an estuary or hiking trail
Avoiding the main line is easy enough, but
with carpenter ants, who have disturbingly
long walking trails and come back year
after year, or are they even? they look like
regular ants but a bit bigger, sans the few
large black generals that occasionally bob
in the frey, the biggest black ants you've
ever seen, any step around the river is a
landmine and means you are treading the
sea
Yes, a sea of ants.
Separate from the river flows a loosely
distributed sea of scouts, each on their
own individual mission to map the kitchen
floor, walking trails vast and never ending
Each tiny step forward is a potential
collision
And finally you have your water
What a relief
Never mind the trash can
When you wake up if you're lucky the
menaces will be gone, for now, swept
away by Asian hands, with a tan colored
straw broom
It must be an interesting experience to be
an ant then, getting swept away with your
brothers and sisters before you can finish
devouring the prize, you're never too small
to be swished?, and dumped into the
plastic bag with the kitchen trash and
exiled to the yard, as if we couldn't escape
For sone reason we love stressed out
houseplants, old faintly perfumed
cardboard boxes, sink faucets and drains,
water, we all float here, toilet seats,
countertops, and white walls...
We dislike baby powder, essential oils,
diatomaceous earth, soapy water,
cornstarch, and cinnamon?
Windowsills are our favorite, as those are
the places where we first started, and it is
impossible to keep us out
Stubborn as we are, we always regroup
and return within a few hours, and it takes
an army to keep us away
Putting out ant fires is exhausting, and you
really feel the strain of what it's like to take
a life with each of our friends you smite
We are also known for climbing up
comforters when furniture close to the
walls are touching
The stuff of nightmares.