Monday, April 2, 2012

Spoils - 2/30


I watch ants march their miniscule
battalions through the ridges and
valleys scarring springtime pine,
various parts of woebegone bugs –
leg of beetle, head of fly, wing of
an orphaning ladybug – carted up
the itchy molasses like Troy’s
sorrowed but irretrievable innards.
And there, the hobbled knot of ant,
is that perhaps Hector, carried away
to keep Achilles’ word to eat him raw?
Or is it Achilles himself, beloved hero
hamstrung in the hunt, carried now
by Ajax for a consolatory feast?

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