If I sat down by the crack

If I sat down

By the crack in the wall,

Where the ants scurry out from,

If I put my ears low enough in their path

Would I hear what they say?

If I strain hard enough

Would I hear them complain of the price of the crumbs 

Or the scarcity of sugary treats?

Would they be quarreling about which faction has more members

Or whose castle rises highest?

Will I discover

Why they are so earnest in their scurry

Or anything else they do?

May be I should shrink to their size

And walk among them like a European explorer, 

With a hat and boots made to size.

If I match their scurry in earnest

And drag my share of the bread crump,

If I lead them to my kitchen,

Underneath the cabinets where I keep my syrup 

If I get them to hurry up

Would they have time to check my color

Or the shape of my head?

Would they see my disguise or would they climb into the syrup

If I now march with them, 

Laden with bread and syrup

With urgency and direction 

Will they now lead me to the nest?

Will they?

Will they make me king or a sacrifice?

If I become their king

And sit on their throne

Would I remember the route back to the cabinet 

Under the kitchen

Would I remember the magic words to inflate my head

Inflate my head back into the cap I left on the door handle. 

Would they know that I came or that I left?

Would they?

If they tie me up on their altar

Would I feel like the messiah atoning for their sins

Would I sneeze and burst their nest with my head returning to size?

If I sat down beside the crack in the wall

Watching the ants pass by

Would they know what I am thinking?