I, The Leafcutter Ant by Kyle Singh

The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah!

I, the leafcutter ant, come with the pharaoh and the whitefooted one.

You’ve cupped your hands and made me dance, creator of patterns of light, you have guided me.

O, I am so grateful to you. O, silver headed God, thank you for this apple core, rotten and punctured.

Thank you for the dirt in the yard for me to burrow in, for the softness of your fingertips so my
mandibles can draw blood.

Thank you

We carried aphids on our backs, green and sweet, the aphids were ready to yellow the leaves.

The leaves thanked us

Then, gently, we tapped them with our antennae and asked for sap, to protect them from the midges
and lacewings.

The aphids thanked us

We have exchanged gifts with you now, God. I bow down to you and you to me.

And then there are the lasers, red dots in darkness, followed by sounds of crackling, swooshing release
of a firecracker, the lasers on them, the sound of rockets and lasers on them, where are the beams
coming from?

Such wild noises that make me scurry in frenzy, now curious about the nibbed pattern of rubber
above, tacky, which smashes the pharaoh. Then there is some kind of odorless oil that the whitefooted
one steps in, stepping another time, not returning.

I hope I have left you something in return

I, the leafcutter ant, now leave alone