ants
telly kept all kinds
of fast food bags in the office
he had the bags full of free trinkets
that he got at trade shows and other events
one of them held several hundred pens in it
although the bags still held the odor of food
the office smelled of rancid meat
and french fry grease whenever telly was there
in the spring the fast food bags attracted ants
some days there were just a few
but on most a line of thousands of ants
went single file behind computer stands and desks
to reach the fast food bags on telly’s side
instead of doing my job
i’d watch the ants scale the height of a bag
they looked like mountain climbers working in tandem
then they’d fall off the edge into the bag
as if committing a mass suicide into a volcano
there were many days where i had to take a broom
and get rid of hundreds of the ants
i felt like a grand executioner
killing entire colonies in one sweep
i knew i’d never be a buddhist doing this business
i felt for the ants
they were only doing what came naturally to them
at my worst
i’d have to take several
fast food bags and squash them
to the ants i imagined
it was like a bomb going off
one second fast food bliss
the other second mass annihilation
by the time telly came to work
both the bags and the ants were gone
he’d put his things down and then circle around his desk
looking at all of that negative space
where are my fast food bags?
he’d ask me, in that lispy way of his
but i’d just shrug and turn back to my computer
or i’d get up and go to the bathroom
to stare at my sinister self in the mirror
a mass murderer if ever there was one
before turning on the hot, brown water
trying my best to wipe the blood from my hands.
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