When shouldering the rubble clogging
the caldera of the veiny underground
procession or when soldiering
at some stuck twig or toe
or crittering exoskeleton,
does the ant ever imagine
between busy antennae
what becomes of its body
when it is time
to at once repay
the great loan
of life?
II.
When lying on a small farm listening to the chicks pop like sizzling kernels in the setting sun, leafy greens hurdle infinitesimally over their brown bedding
like children forever rising in the slow morning, nearby
a butterfly, yellow with dreaming life, sniffs out a rock
to fan down while elsewhere in the same
ordinary instance hot, red life lurches forth to feed the brown ground
as the insidiousness of its own leisurely life is recognized by an old hen ah! too late.
III.
When the fish
having broken the cap
of its universe, for the first time
pierces into the choking air, cutting wind
and eyes its watery world fearing it may float
forever away, it finally sees the round
horizon of everything
like the scintillating
edge of a bubble.
IV.
Before
whistling
their bloody tune they are cloistered,
a frightened family, until one makes
the short pop
to the chamber, loaded
shot irrevocably
into the world,
toward death.
Created to be destroyed.
V.
When I was snatched up from my worrying daughters
and led into the judge’s chambers, He spoke
with laser precision expressing something like sympathy
for all who similarly must stare
down the cold barrel of poverty
in this land of plenty, loaded
the room with deep condolences,
yet then let fall
the remorseless hammer.
by: L. Raymond Andrews
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