bitpunkfm on Nostr: No one writes poems for the ants that battle on the pavement. Each engagement, an ...
No one writes poems for the ants
that battle on the pavement.
Each engagement,
an entire colony at stake —
but no one writes poems for the ants.
How boring it is to watch.
The ant wars are now like ours —
each day the same show.
Even advertisers know —
our wars no longer sell.
The shock has lost its awe.
How we will inspire the poets
with such tiresome trauma?
Where’s our Hiroshima and Nagasaki?
Where's our Enhanced Interrogation?
Where's our Abu Ghraib?
Where's our My Lai?
The Trojan War gave us
the illustrious Iliad,
1812 our national anthem.
Would Neruda burn as bright
without the Spanish civil war?
The Teeth Mother would not be
Naked At Last without Vietnam.
We've grown numb —
numb to the dead on our phones,
numb to grenades
that fall from drones,
numb to news of nuclear war.
Oh, what a bore.
Meanwhile, the ants rage on —
the black swarm tearing
limb from limb,
indistinguishable to the eye.
No gasps when mandibles
separate thoraxes,
No tears spill for ripped antennae,
No hearts break for a nest invaded,
slaughtered,
larva killed in their sleep.
We watch these epic battles
from high above,
callously wondering who's winning
and how long it will last,
while chewing a cookie
that crumbles into the chaos.
And so we spray them away
with carcinogenic cans
to face another day,
another colony at bay.
Can in hand, cookie in mouth —
from here they all look the same.
Who cares to write poems
for the ants?
#poetry
https://open.substack.com/pub/bitpunkfm/p/no-one-writes-poems-for-the-ants
that battle on the pavement.
Each engagement,
an entire colony at stake —
but no one writes poems for the ants.
How boring it is to watch.
The ant wars are now like ours —
each day the same show.
Even advertisers know —
our wars no longer sell.
The shock has lost its awe.
How we will inspire the poets
with such tiresome trauma?
Where’s our Hiroshima and Nagasaki?
Where's our Enhanced Interrogation?
Where's our Abu Ghraib?
Where's our My Lai?
The Trojan War gave us
the illustrious Iliad,
1812 our national anthem.
Would Neruda burn as bright
without the Spanish civil war?
The Teeth Mother would not be
Naked At Last without Vietnam.
We've grown numb —
numb to the dead on our phones,
numb to grenades
that fall from drones,
numb to news of nuclear war.
Oh, what a bore.
Meanwhile, the ants rage on —
the black swarm tearing
limb from limb,
indistinguishable to the eye.
No gasps when mandibles
separate thoraxes,
No tears spill for ripped antennae,
No hearts break for a nest invaded,
slaughtered,
larva killed in their sleep.
We watch these epic battles
from high above,
callously wondering who's winning
and how long it will last,
while chewing a cookie
that crumbles into the chaos.
And so we spray them away
with carcinogenic cans
to face another day,
another colony at bay.
Can in hand, cookie in mouth —
from here they all look the same.
Who cares to write poems
for the ants?
#poetry
https://open.substack.com/pub/bitpunkfm/p/no-one-writes-poems-for-the-ants