Ants Poem by D A Phinney

No tragedy has ever rocked the world for long
Six million tortured, fired, gassed, are gone
And we go on
Two cities twined in shadowless death, pain, snow
So black, long legacy burning in bone
And on we go

The Earth turns
The anthill churns

So God is cleaved and myriad-cleaved til Hydra-head
Is forced to self-contention in false stead
Of lust and greed
War, corruption, rot, decay defile the Bust
Of History, shroud its eyes that turned, at first,
From greed and lust

The Zeppelin does its trick and pyres
The garland at the mountain peak, once plane
Tornadoes, earthquakes, hotel fires,
The auto wreck, it all comes out the same
The trapeze breaks, hushed fall, so long...
The morning comes, we wake up, backside lame
From craning bleacher-bound so long
The heart sighs, mind shrugs, off to work, stay sane

What excuse can ever be
An answer for mortality
The gape, the stare, what livelessness
We imitate, what witlessness,
What bullring hope, what three-ring thrill
That quicks to see a heart stone still

The Earth turns
The anthill churns