I led a loveless life for three days,
Found the edge of a shoe
That I took to be God
Turned towards it
And under the sole I returned.

Back in January seeds started flowing
From the balcony.

On Sunday we read
The poems of the deaf and
Watched the matches stumble
Drunkenly through the darkness.

In March my hips began to
Fill out like my mother’s.

A monsoon of bullet ants
Waged war along the perimeter of the bath.
I squashed three under my thumb.
Hide, I told them. I have dropped mercy off the edge of the hanging bridge.

In May the stars were soft,
The ants came back to bite me in my sleep.

I tried to clasp your nose to keep you warm
But all the heat had flown from our bodies.
Sacrifices were made along the way.
The ants, admittedly, least among them.

Why do people describe tranquility
As stillness?
There is no stillness
It's just a concept
Your mind concocted

Look around:
The nature is busy
Do you see ants stop?
Do you see birds stand still?
Do you think air stops moving?

If you wait for stillness
You'll be waiting a long time
Find peace in the busyness
It exists trust me
You just need to look for it

He has sensitive teeth, yet 
he sips frigid liquids for 
the same reason he goes out 
of his way to stamp on ants.

-
by Aleksander Mielnikow | Alek the Poet

The microscopic ant was trampled by the shoes of the busy human.

All the colony grieved for days, The warriors in anger, the queen in distress, the workers in apathy.

Then one day where the incident occurred.

A witness ant saw the same shoe.

The warrior ants cried their chant, revenge is here for their brother ant.

So, they climbed the shoe and bit, only to be thrown off towards their death.

The pest control was called and the colony was flushed.

And the man who spewed white death sang a tune:

"Here is the fate of those insignfcant things, that tried to take what they thought they deserved"

He laughed and smiled at his job well done.

And looked at what he had done, the colony had died that is for sure.

And his boss called for another job.