Friday, September 9, 2011

ant farm


What You Are
by an ant

You are tall. You are full to the ribs with jealousy, and you stoop low to avoid hitting your head on the sky. You are shaped like something God made, but you are not God; you are shaped like Man, but you are not a man. When you breathe, you take more oxygen than you need. You are tired, heavy on your feet and I would know. You are loud and destructive and you are not afraid of the rain, except for sometimes when it rains very much and you wonder idly from inside your warm woolen wooden house if somehow this is God's way of punishing you and the rain isn't going to stop at all. You are terrified of the dark, big strong brave, and afraid of the dark. You are angry. You stomp. You lie so much but all you want is the truth, you swear, all you want is the truth. No, you can't handle the truth; you just want something that looks like the truth. You are a cannibal, a hypocrite, and you have a lovely way of opening your mouth and saying the right thing. You are lovely and you are unrighteous and you are divine. You are gorgeous, full of light and soft breathing sounds and bare feet across wood floors. You are thoughtful if you remember to be. You are co-dependent in a good way. You are manipulative. You are good. And above all, you are very, very tall. Tall enough to do something that might be good for the rest of us. Tall enough to stand up straight.

A Poem About Ants
by a man

You are small.
And easy to squish.

What I Meant to Say
by an ant

I meant to say that you're cruel. But you look good doing it. You always think that you are the exception.
You're not.

What You Are Not
by an ant

Oh, and you are not unsympathetic. At least, you try not to be.

Sometimes I am like an ant: unnerved by my own strength.
-Avery Jalaine


  1. Anonymous9.9.11

    I did click my heels and wish for you.

  2. Anonymous10.9.11

    This is wonderful.

  3. did you write this?? i love it!


Oh thanks. You're pretty.