Ants Ants Ants

In every crevice where I look Every cranny, every nook Creeping, crawling in their hoards It’s my world they head towards Swarming over every leaf Numbers that defy belief Out of holes, from under rocks Now they’re even in my socks They’re up my legs, they’re here, they’re there I think one’s bit my you-know-where At my feet the ground’s alive I start to think, “Will I survive?” I have some powder that I rate It has the strength to decimate Just a puff in cracks and holes And all those ants will lose their souls Trouble is, those bites are itching For my powder’s in my kitchen In a cupboard ’neath the sink “Useful: NOT!” I hear you think I ran a bath to set me free And drowned those ants that didn’t flee I laughed out loud as gleefully I pulled the plug out, “Tee hee hee!” Sat down that night to watch TV And found an ant sat on my knee I told that ant I couldn’t see What kind of use an ant could be I guess you’ll think that it’s a joke (And yes I’d had a Scotch and coke) It didn’t squeak nor bark nor croak… I swear to you that damned ant spoke! “Sir,” it said, “we pollinate plants that then regenerate. We make ourselves an aphid farm which helps to save your plants from harm. And all those slugs that make you squirm, That horrid curly wurly worm, We’ll eat them if we find them dead… And then we shall infest your bed.” Four millimetres of annoyance For the sake of doubt avoidance I hate insect sycophants I won’t pretend to love those ants He bit my leg; I wished him dead But what the hell just bit my head Sometimes nature makes me sigh… What’s the point of ants that fly?