Magellan's Log Copyright © 2005 Texas Chapbook Press
www.texaschapbookpress.com

Attention, ants!
Your leaders’ rants,
your shit-filled pants,
your mindless priests,
your force-fed beasts,
your gluttonous feasts,
your well-paved streets,
reductive feats
of heartless greed,
insatiable need,
have sowed one seed:
the bed you built,
the throne of guilt
far from the lilt
of mockingbirds’
sweet songs… No words
can hide your turds’
stench nor explain
your puny pain
as your mother’s rain
of cleansing piss
pours down on this
your false ant bliss
and false ant gods.
Against all odds
your hoarded pods
of plunder now burst
and your worst first thirst
goes unsated. Lo!
No love below,
o mighty ants? So
no love above.
Ring around the rosey,
pocket full of posey,
all fall down.