2232
7.40
9.ii.26
ANTic
disposition
six legged feign
the swarm
it seems insensible
some have been winged for
this
some fall
mad ants
spilling out
spelling
so somehow seem
slow steady
the hustle and the map
remaking
it looks like patience where
we are
hide
for a certain time to tread
all faceted and pixellate
the eye of sight compounded
they’re here to disassemble
do they sleep?
are they a sea?
a future smells of weather
that’s as foretold
ants tell on
crawling between earth and
hell
all we creatures do
good foot after another
guests as of the idea
they go hill dale
unhurry
time as far beyond
together calculate
even now unsure
no home too humble but here
they have no need to trust
hope bless
they are the toys of fate