Like Some Sugar Loving Ant

Like some sugar loving ant
just lusting after its next fructose high,
I can carry 100 times my own weight
tiny crumbs of sorrow add up
enough to feast upon, and little leaf-cutter
jagged bits and pieces of my gnawed on dreams
make a nest in my twisted tunnel
beneath the heavy lawn.
I've got grasshopper
skeletons in my closet; aphid
impulses I can't control but still
I'm neat and tidy, every dark red chamber
immaculate as bone.
And I've heard of others lured;
drawn out by their own nature
to assay the swimming bowl.
My perceptions twitch
intuition feelers try to see
the tantalizing trap I sense
laid out for my particularities.
You have me
before I even ask if you are
the sugar-water dish for me.


Subscriptons and individual copies of Maelstrom can be ordered at
Like Some Sugar Loving Ant first publication credit, Samsara Quarterly
Also published in Atomic Petals

Back to Plain Ink