Ode to Ants:

No, I am not making an ant hill out of this-

I can’t say the phrase, sounds rape-y

without feeling’ like

I stuck my leg

into a giant fire ant hill

how many angered sighs of

you're a slut if you don’t put out

& who taught you how to kiss like that?

laughing off in my face

As I tuck & roll out of cold-hearted lovers' beds

& demand to be taken home

just to hear tires peel out of the driveway

Tipsy enough,

to lick the sliding glass door like my Labrador

dropping my phone on the carpet

soak in tears of swigged spiced rum

& nude rug burns