ants on the dirt on the John Muir trail
I study them intently
I watch their transport of cooked rice
but only some have cooked rice
unfair
I decide I'm the God of the Woods
and I'll redistribute the grain

throughout the scurrying
I peel the rice off their backs
and plant them on new backs
I peel them apart and give
the hungry their need

I spend precious time with these
minute creatures spreading the wealth
none will be forgotten
some stand on their hind legs
looking up
some scurry to holes peeking out
some in a fury
some in a daze

what's the problem with this cooked rice redistribution

I hear buzzing about like bees
I see larger ants climbing on smaller ants
protecting their rice
to them I am no God of the Woods
I try to talk to them I try to soothe them
I hush them with vocal seduction
I soothe them with balletic rice transfusions
I God of the Woods want rejoice

I God of the Woods am killer
cooked rice is not cooked rice
cooked rice is egg sacs of new ants and new life

I God of the Woods have killed their young
split them apart and given
non child-bearing ants dead eggs to sit on their backs
to carry an external breed of broken life
to scurry in daze and confusion

I God of the Woods retreat
I God of the Woods apologize
I God of the Woods am failure to this army of workers
I God of the Woods am far from God of the Woods
I God of the Woods am killer

01/29/2008

Posted on 01/29/2008
Copyright © 2025 David Garner