Author Information
The Opposite of Bridges
The little ants in white came out
in the middle of the night again;
it’s worse then, than in the day
with no light to make them go away,
to make them pale and insubstantial
fade away
fade away.
Sometimes just the chewing noises
and nothing very important
is gobbled away;
but other times…
but other times: SNAP!
The rocket slash of recoil: ropes and twine
like steel cables stressed out to the max
suddenly suddenly…snapped…
And something inside me runs
from one vast abyss to the next
searching frantically to find that bridge
where they haven’t got to…yet.
And one day, will there be none?
One day will … there be none?
