Lament Over Ants

by Duncan Cary Palmer

When there's ants,
You end up in kind of a trance.
You keep looking for more
On the wall and the floor,
When there's ants.

When there's ants,
Everything's starting to dance.
That spot on the wall
And those marks in the hall,
The crumbs by the sink
Draw your eyes, and you think,
"Are those ants?"

When there's ants,
Every time you attempt
To assay a breath,
There's another incursion
To bug you to death.
With nowhere to turn,
Must you forever yearn
For an unsullied,
Antless expanse?

When there's ants,
You can't rest;
They don't give you a chance.
Though at times you may try
To sit idly by,
Don't expect to find time
For romance,
When there's ants.

Ants are amazing,
So cunning,
So small.
Forever trailblazing,
Spring, summer, and fall.
They're wherever you happen to glance.

On the rug,
In that jar;
On the edge of the bar:
Is there no way to halt their advance?
They'll drive you insane,
Cause unlimited pain,
While inspiring poetic rants,
When there's ants.

Whether found in the kitchen,
The bedroom, or bath,
When there's ants,
They're the ones
Who will have the last laugh.

Be you rich man or poor,
Dauntless or insecure,
Though you live in a hovel or manse,
You'll learn one thing for sure:
There is really no cure.
Everywhere you may look,
There's more ants.

_FIN

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