Dizzy with Poison

Dizzy with Poison


The ant stumbles across the bathroom floor,

swirling, twisting, roaming without ambition.


Normally bee-lining for food, this dance

reeks of the poison set out yesterday.


Towards the window, away, towards again, away,

swayed by a wind no one else can feel, circling.


I take the bottle of Raid and spray, dousing

the ant with amounts that drown, not trusting


the kill on contact label plastered

across the cool can. But I missed. In the mirror


I see the same dance, spinning and whirling

in directions I never knew I could go.

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