Pulse 10.

by Fady Joudah
from the collection: The Earth in the Attic

In the calm
After the rain has bombed

The earth, the ants
March out of their shelters

One long frantic migration line:

They hit the concrete floor
Of our dining and living

Space then turn into the shadow
The wall makes: a straight angle

Is the surest compass
To the courtyard wreckage of dirt and gravel.

Did they know the wind
Would airdrop

New rations their way?
Because always two or three

Lock their horns
To the acid end

Over nothing
It seems more

Than an impulse, the debris
Plenty for all.