Warning: Amphigorical Content!

grubby grists of euphuistic prolixity

Friday, 25 June 2010

Formic Sentience

When I find my garden path has grown small piles of sand
Does a wondrous conurbation sprawl beneath my feet?
I hesitate to go to war and force them to disband
or ant-ish archaeology protected by concrete?
Is this is their world, and I the brute who doesn't understand?
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Spagphacious Aeolotony by Philip Damian-Grint is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License
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