One last ant poem.
This is from a series of three.
So this is "Sufficient Gravity Free: the Surface Tension
Challenge".
Things have evolved as far as this--
once every summer in a nondescript beach town
in Southern California, a contest is held.
On a smooth, very smooth surface,
a puddle, very large puddle, is formed.
Local ants are invited to the puddle, all
with the understanding that the ant who breaks the surface
tension, and thus the puddle, shall be the winner of a brand
new Chrysler Crossfire Limited.
The task looks easy enough that it lures a few ants to jump
on first, not realizing the inadequacy of their body mass
until it is too late.
More ants then pile on quickly, so that the judges
are forced to keep a sharp lookout in order
to correctly identify the ant that breaks the water surface.
When the mass of ants atop the puddle
starts approaching critical mass,
the ants grow restless, and the whole puddle quivers.
It turns out that the puddle attracts
quite a bit of attention, and ants--
whole colonies of ambitious ants and poor ants
and lonely ants with nothing to do,
seeking a little friendly jostling, hopeful ants,
and soon even the random passerby ants with no ambition
whatsoever-- have joined in on the action
having been lured in by all the ongoing excitement.
It is just this kind of unambitious ant
who finally ends by winning this mad contest of jostling ant
matter and is presented with the car.
At which point, the ants are now returned
to their senses, reminded that this game was
a human invention after all--
the car a human scale car.
The winning ant is now faced with the Herculean task
of gathering enough fellow ants to band together and form
a massive huddle, a complex collective large enough
with which to operate the car.
A pair of ants nearby loiter around the butt of a not quite
extinguished cigarette, taking turns inhaling,
and exhaling statements about how overrated winning is.