Ant Lion Tango
Ant, I am the Ant Lion,
stay. I've sifted sand
all day and down the decline
I'll send it, dust your way
let me sip you, lick you, lift you
out of your crust, your carapace
"Take everything, taste, don't waste
a modicum of me, make sod of me,"
you say, "step up, step over my castaway
coil, my crust." Ant, caligulate
thus: think there's no mend to me
that ties can be torn, trust is just
some body born to break into.
© 2001 Bronwyn Mills. Reproduced with the author's permission.
Bronwyn Mills is an associate editor with the online literary magazine Frigate: The Transverse Review of Books. She is currently working on a fabulist novel, Beastly.