little brown ant carries the world
the housewife bends down to see
little brown ant carries it on its back
the housewife nods solemnly
she understands it
they’re the same
little brown ant continues on its way
the housewife goes for more groceries

I can’t hear her
she’s in the other room
but her presence is comforting
it reminds me, assures me
the world outside has not disappeared
we exist all together still

amidst stacks of hastily organized paper
along a non-descript wall with a clock on it
a small creaky desk with a nameplate
them in the metal chair rolled their eyes
they slowly stamped in red ink “DECEASED”
onto papers with pictures, names and life stories
their hand slipped but still came down on the paper
getting a splotch of red ink on a child’s paper
they did not give the mistake a second thought
in Pennsylvania, a ten year old boy developed asthma
they continued to stamp rigorously
the done pile filled out and they smiled to themselves
“quitting time soon,” they thought
billions of lives were put on hold for it
but before they left the office for the day
seven blue outlined papers were stamped
the metallic blue stamp said “MIRACLE”
they sighed and haphazardly cleared the desk

forever is such a vague term
and it can’t be proved
but I say it and so does everyone

the woman with gold-flecked eyes
she is too beautiful
she is hard to look at
it made her that way
when she was a girl
before, she smiled
before, she extended her hand
before, she beamed
now she’s polished
and she shines
but she’s behind the glass
they can’t touch her
she can’t touch them
not even to clasp hands
and sigh with joy
and that’s a shame

the stew is delicious
rich and full of flavor
but not overpowering

he lies atop a cardboard cliff
the boxes bite into his back and shoulder
he raises his phone
and takes yet another selfie
looking brooding and odd
the ceiling is a mere two feet above his body
he runs his finger against the foam tile
he considers knocking everything down
but instead he climbs down
and goes back to work