Ants

An ant scout wanders into my room

It’s antenna seeing things I can’t

Pausing

It finds an apple core hidden in my bin

It leaves, out the front door

Returning with tens of thousands of ants

Flooding in

Organised groups, single file, regimented

Setting up logistics

Passing chunks of apple

To one another

Working as a close-knit team

 

What disgusts me isn’t the fact they’re grubby insects

Or they’re eating an old, rotten apple core

The juices still leaking in my bin

It’s the level of coordination

The intelligence

The teamwork

As they invade my home

It sickens me inside, right to the core

 

So

 

I invade theirs

I grab the ant killer powder

And kick it in, right deep inside their nest

 

That’ll teach the fuckers for being so clever

 

A Storm’s Kiss

A silver fog blurs my vision

Till I’m left with nothing but hearing

I can feel the grey sea moaning

As the long forseen storm

Searches for me

Shouting my name with such power

That I cower into the fetal position

The storm sends out hurricane after hurricane

Searching for me

Asking the sea

If it’s seen me anywhere

The sea shrugs

With a nonchalant moan

The fog finally betrays me

Lifting itself

Dissipating

The storm has found me

It materialises into human form

Kissing me with thunder