Wednesday, August 11, 2021


Near the trash bins
in the alley 
which always overflow

a hundred black ants 
(or maybe more) 

have swarmed 
to the center of a 
brown apple core—

Pathetic, you think, 
how they jones 
for the sugar. 

But what used-up hull
do you consider treasure?

And how much of it
would you throw 
to the beggars 

in order 
to know one scrap 
of their rapport?