9. Squished Caterpillars

Upon the red-brown cobblestones,
All sprayed across the ground –
The crushed intestines roast away
Beneath a heartless sun.

In almost lovely yellow seas
The ants are interspliced –
The spotted skin resilient,
A boat beneath the waves.

Unwary of the earth they tread,
Yet mindful of the way –
The time flits far too fast to note
The banquets underneath.

In torrid minutes, crisp and brown –
The bowel-juices fry;
The blood is soaked into the stone
as recognition – fades.