Untitled Poem of Freedom

Glad, the fire ants perform their gaiety tasks
such as hunting for giant creatures
or polishing shoes for surgeons and moths.
Blind all creatures who cheer for their lifetime
of self inflicted industrialism.
Especially frightened warriors and gods
when a child stares up close
into the window of love.
All secrets must be kept
by the king’s lips of stone.
A world of light waits in ambush
for truth to run free,
like a rich whore on new years eve.