—IT’S HARD TO FIND AN ANGEL WHEN IT’S HELL ON EARTH

 

 

Sugar Ants

 

Back then   he could say     he was young      and foolish      desperate for love     same as anyone    still lithe and thick-haired      easy with a laugh or smirk   Maybe it was one of the girls   who gave him the handle    Sugar   because it stuck    like a lozenge   meant to be sucked    instead of swallowed   He was different later   of course   had to find his women    through electronics  and habituation     sly scouting    At home     the ants came   out of cracks   in columns   thinner than scars    or ligature marks     black specks the size of     shredded pepper   vermin that hustled    over the sink counter     bathroom tiles and    bedside nightstand     Mom was always     jittery    yet she felt lucky    loving the quarterback all these years   jesting You still got it Sugar    even the critters want some    But at that point    it was he   who did the sourcing     a detective on and off    the job    his assignment as he saw it    to reclaim the glory days   which were my unspoken thoughts    not his    for how do you make sense    of camouflaged evil     when it hugs you    pats your back    says Son you’re a tall bastard now   that laugh again    his new set of eyes     nearly as black as     the ants that danced    throughout our home   the ones that still come looking    even after all    the carnage   and flood of    unsweetened tears.