dear ants,
you really are spectacular creatures
with a fascinating society
and i am sorry to have to kill you (en masse).
with flies, mosquitos
it's different
it is war
perhaps, under different circumstances
we could be friends, you and i, even.
but your very ordered appearance
indicates a disorder on my part which is unacceptable
and can not stand.
yet just now, one of your brethren made its appearance on my arm known
tickling my skin
and snatching him up between my pinched fingers
i took his life.
he is on the edge of my thumb dead, essentially
and the occasional twitches of his legs have long ceased
giving me hope of a potential recovery
i did not wish to kill you friend.
i have gladly sprayed legions of ants
as they trudged along doorways, sinks, and elsewhere over the years, each fulfilling their integral, menial tasks
in rank sharp enough as to make Patton prowd
the twitching has stopped now (he just twitched again though)
and i feel i ought give my friend a proper funeral
complete with fire and prayer
replete of family, friends aghast and stricken
whiskey.
ashes to dust we must
and burn.
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