Time and Again, Carpenter Ants

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TIME AND AGAIN, CARPENTER ANTS


A scout, I presumed, sure to bring back news 

of good eatin’ just beneath the siding, 

call his friends to begin the slow work 


of hollowing the firm until it sags 

and even crashes on what sleeps

sheltered inside. I plucked him off the pavers 


winding towards the house 

and felt the soft house of his body pop 

between my fingers then looked for more,


as if with enough vigilance 

I could stave off this inevitable nibbling 

around the bones, as if I might not


one day wake up tangled in mangled

trusses like a caved-in rib cage, 

crawling out to report back 


nothing but another strange dream

before vanishing into the Great Thorax

which has never eaten its fill.


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