trainspotting.

Slumped on the curb

he stares at ants
congregating near his feet.
They’re curious about
his recent regurgitation
of stomach acids.

I wonder 

what ants would do
with a human degree
of consciousness.

I think
(hope) they would do
something other than
numbing it away with
alcohol and television.

I don't know why
it's so painful
to be conscious,
but I'd like to think
it's worth it.