Ant Epic Poem-An Introduction to Summer's Existential Attempts

Today marked the second day of my existentialistic journey. I have to question the validity of its course. Existentialism is the search of individuals to find meaning in their lives. And while most people rely on Gods and higher order structures to understand where their lives are going, some people choose to rely only on themselves. I have created an existentialism machine. It gives out daily prompts for things you should do. The question I have solidified, however, is how do actions affect the way you find meaning in your life? It seemed to make more sense when I was creating the idea.

I suppose in the olden times God created meaning for people by making them do things. I don't want to put God on the same level of the little box I stuffed full of notecards... but in principle I suppose they're similar.

Today I pulled out the prompt: Write an epic poem.

I did.

Here it is in its rough form:



bristled legs miniscule shuffle
'cross monochrome linoleum

segmented and jointed amber grains
of carbon march on

sterile sisters where gender makes
no difference, no change

form tiny streams with bodies 100
percent genetically the same

they flow out from their hill laid
out under the surface of the earth

scourging the weekly scrubbed floor
for calorific crumbles

one lone worker sniffs a chemical
catches it from the kitchen's air conditioned air

there is sugar, a beacon of nourishment, currency
of life, radiating its message in tones to taste

tripping off the designated path to the mandate:
food is more important than rules.

antennae tailor a trail indirect to the
emittance of food pheromones

sticky fibers of a spider's net
catch and tighten, threat

puzzled and confused by the rare
sensory input, she begins to shake

chitin rustles, sending an escalading
avalanche of signals through the silky mesh

vibrations project, like a door bell ringing,
but no one's home

salvation, security found
in the inattention of predation

the journey continues, up and down
the grooves between tiles

the sheer cliff of wooden cabinetry
poses a biblical obstacle

but the journey to all sinks began
with one vertical step for antkind

with hair hooks in your feet and a weight
of 1/1oooth a gram, impossible is a lying convention.

the skyward trek produces wonderful sights:
the human constructed habitat aboveground

piece of pizza, speck of cake, puddle of pepsi
dust the stainless steel basin

they must be consumed, a feast of waste, a feat
of human consumption: there will always be leftovers.