My Inspiration

Every
Single
Day
I
Wake
Up
And
See
Miniscule
Shining
Black
Ants
Exploring
My
Bathroom.

A
Few
Upon
the
Sink,
The
Toilet
Seat,
and
Perhaps
If
Feeling
Extra
Saucy,
One
Or
Two
Will
Dare
To
Climb
The
Aged
Shower
Curtain.
(I’m
Quite
Modest
While
In
The
Nude
So
This
Is
Not
A
Comfortable
Situation
For
Myself.)

I
Kill
Them
All.

No
Real
Fault
Of
His/her
Own
Because
Technically
I
Moved
In
Upon
Already
Occupied
Land—

But
I
Kill
Each,
If
Possible.

Apparently
The
Nuisance
Is
Too
Much
For
Me
To
Bear.


Sometimes,
My
Sentimental
Self
Names
Them,
Sometimes
I
Even
Slow
Down
And
Take
A
Moment
To
Chat—

Hello
Pete,
I’m
Really
Sorry
To
Have
To
Wash
You
Down
The
Sink
Today—
I’m
Quite
Sure
I
Did
The
Same
The
Day
Before
To
A
Relative
Of
Yours.

It
Really
Is
An
Awful
Situation
For Pete—
Yet
It’s
Not
Enough
Guilt
To
Make
Me
Stop.

I
Pretend
Each
Doesn’t
Feel
When
I’m
Doing
The
Deed.
Fucking
Awful
Isn’t
That?

But
Inside
Honestly
I
Feel
Really
Bad
About
The
Squishing
And/or
Flushing.

Secretly
I
Wish
Each
Had
A
Fulfilling
Ant
Life
With
Experiences
Including
Gorging
On
Picnic
Leftovers
And
Basking
In
His/her
Own
Intelligence
While
Creating
Elaborate
Homes
And
Passageways—

And
Then
I
Go
About
My
Normal
Day
And
Forget
About
The
Wonder
Of
The
Ant.