Flying Ants

Flying Ants

I could pretend that they’re is some kind of deep message buried in the depths of the intellectual imagery of this poem, but I would be lying. In all honesty, this is another foul, odorous cloud of rubbish, rising from the fetid depths of the I-was-very-tired-and-possibly-slightly-delirious-when-I-wrote-this vault.

Flying Ants

Flying ants
Flow from pants
Their minds devoid of thought or reason

Flying aunts
Hypnotic dance
To welcome in the harvest season

I hadn't ant-icipated how difficult it would be to get a clear photo for this post.

I hadn’t ant-icipated how difficult it would be to get a clear photo for this post.

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