ants

there is no mercy
for the ant
when we feel
it's tiny feet
across our skin

we mete out
punishment swiftly
decisively

flicked off
or crushed by
fingers

we act as though
we were god
and not kin

to such a lowly
creature

Over Rum

Let the ants overrun the glass of rum

Let them grow drunk

Let them drink their fill

Let them drown in their mistake

Let their brothers drink

            Over the bodies of their siblings

Let their bodies rot in a pool of black

Let them learn the lessons of man 

Of Kingdoms

colonies of ants populated by drones working moving
sifting collecting the individual is merely a cell in a larger
organism millions of small feet tramping the ground
with a collected purpose fear and hesitation are extinct
institutions their commutes stretch distances we could leap
across there is order there is purpose there is motion
with reason there is a unifying source to existence
it is a religion of the purest order a religion where
the only god is the god of propagation a furthering
of the state of existence a simple demand from simple
creatures worship and exalt the queen the goddess of
the temple the deity incarnate roman emperors could
not better the tribute she is paid a kingdom invisible
to all but those who inhabit it our kingdoms would be
alien to them but they persist in and through them
their empire will outlast the memory the earth will
hold of us their feet will march upon the ruins of
our capitals and kingdoms there will be no fanfare
just the ordered matter of business seeking
perpetual preservation