Ants, six legs
all from the thorax.
That way, they stick their ass somewhere it don’t belong,
they’ve got six good legs to pull it out.
Too bad for people,
with only two,
growing right out of our dumb asses,
and when we’re stuck, we’re stuck
our ass-end walks us into it every-time.
There’s no doubt, as a culture
We are better off glued to the couch
Soft, safe,
Free from the hard faces
The neighbor’s and their dogs
The mailman on his route
The guy who always tries to get a cigarette off you,
Never remembering you don’t smoke
never even bothering to try to remember
it’s enough to warrant suicide
it’s enough to make you worry about your mind
your heart
blood pressure
weather reports
and you know the latter is on the TV
and you know from where the TV is best spied
warm and secure down the ant hole


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