The last poem I ever write
may be in my head
on my way to dead.
I hope it’s a funny one
without any ants.
The Last Ant
There will never be one.
Not ever.
Last Sane Thought
I imagine my trail toward insanity
littered with ants crawling
in through my nose
tunneling gray matter
feasting trails in my brain.
A single ant exits across my eyeball
I hold completely still and watch it
cover my world.
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