On the floor by my foot
a large black ant crawls without direction,
the same type insect I spent
much time smashing after the fall.
Then they seemed to be everywhere,
a sign for the broken hearted,
or maybe it was arid and they
simply searched for an oasis in the carpeting.
The oasis, alas, did not exist,
and, alas, the black ants stopped coming,
I was left alone for a while,
a scientist without a subject.
Tonight this one arrives
and the experiment begins again.
Should I run him out of town?
Will he take me with him?
Like last night when getting
in bed and from beneath the pillow
crawled a pale orange lady bug,
and i couldn’t remember if
that meant good luck or bad,
was this the nature of the tooth fairy,
I had always assumed Mom,
but perhaps it is this.
My studies don’t always go so well.
I wonder about the other lady bug that
flew in the truck window on Saturday,
and what it scratching my cornea meant.
Was it so I could better understand
the nature of insects?
Or when the black ant bites my foot
late on Monday, and it takes me back
to that time when you once danced
sweaty to hip hop blasting from
speakers on a hardwood floor
creating a scene that I
should be forgetting now if
I know what is good for me.
If I could be strong would I
understand why these things happen
why these things are here
and in my bed and walking
these floors and not leaving
me alone, but reminding me I am