The noise of the broken spine of an ant here on earth is nothing
in (God’s) holy precincts it is a roar – Ghalib
Consider the ants they are various
nevertheless all have jaws like scissors like hedge-clippers
they can cut off a five hundred pound leaf and haul it away
they can slice up a slug sever the neck of an enemy
they can plan an attack and send out a scout
make bridges hold back obstacle vegetation
follow the track of their scouts with their tasters
steal the honeypot ant to feed their own
they can gage the strength of their opponents
shrewdly retreat saving head and reputation
they are chemical who needs eyes?
who needs periods of meditation weighing the heart
reflecting making summations?
over billions of years they’ve worked it out what life is
no need anymore to walk around brain clogged
with issues and questions
to be born into the clan is to serve the clan
death has no ceremony no stigma no rage
if one drops carrying his task two pick it up not missing a beat
if multitudes are wiped out the rubble’s cleared away
before sundown building begins again
a bigger and classier city with all the newest materials
at a certain hour in a certain season the queens get pushed out
what an orgy of sex and death!
the queen isn’t a mind she doesn’t object
doesn’t long for a personal life a career a pilgrimage
an immortal love
the ant’s ancestor was a wasp
from her they inherited stingers nests heat-resistant feet
except for the queen and her impregnators
the wings atrophied then dropped off
the way whatever isn’t necessary does
they have no obsession with an alternative existence
no anxiety walking the edge between daylight and no light
carrying consciousness in their brains
like a helium balloon in unpredictable currents
having no intuition that a few must step aside
to attend to what has not yet been foreseen or created
whatever variety fire ants Amazonian ants leaf-cutter ants
driver ants they recognize their entomological type
engage in its defense its hunger-driven offensives
without heroism they die because heroes
must choose or be chosen
they inherit the earth a minute or two
thriving feudal secure in their identity their place
if you pause in the desert or the jungle you can see them
you can see them on your baseboards your neighbor’s gutters
on boulevards and avenues and out-of-the-way trails
all over the continents
they keep busy coming and dying