The black carpenter ants that crawl on the
walls, the floorboards, across bathroom tiles, over
front porch under back porch, can lift their body
mass by twenties in a cinch pinchers clenched and for
4.5 hours every few days I'm working hard, or, hardly
working, trying not to flashback to the steps I made to
avoid my current part-time post-collegiate situation. I
stare at the tiles to pass the time and walk quickly, or,
stand in one spot thinking of everything but time.
When my eyes close I see green fields before me
milking the sun and just before I jump into
hallucinatory somersaults my eyes open and there
are the tiles reflecting back oblong spheres of light.
Customers of varying degree ask for googly eyes,
double-sided tape, anniversary banners, candles, the
restroom. I point. * Two great big arms wrap around
the building connecting at the entrance with interlock'd
fingers closing us all in with a fun sugary hug.
enjoy this, alot.
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