Ants

The dream draws       dental mirrors          from a well

 

the earth will bear it    hammered metal          jeweled pins

 

rule to live by               if you look                    and look

 

it will appear to you         deliverance            

 

I put out traps        an ant carries          neurotoxin

 

back to the nest          he buys a gun safe weighs      

 

four hundred pounds        imagines       needing it

 

imagined pain              trains the real      speculative dreaming

 

leads to horses           lathered           thick as shaving cream

 

in brilliant colors          human forms         pitch them over walls

 

come night       lay down         in wood dust       the night is warm

 

people in the street are dressed         for dancing       

 

while I sleep    four hundred ants       cross the kitchen floor           

 

bearing death

Lia Mastropolo is writing from Philadelphia, where she is currently at work on her first chapbook. Her poetry has appeared in Salt Hill, Folio, decomP, Bird's Thumb, Full of Crow, and elsewhere. 

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