The entire world is covered with them.
Countless billions of shining carapaces,
of shivering antennae. Billions of little
scuttling legs. You spray insecticide
in hope of clearing a path through them,
but they are immune to all poisons,
and so you spend your life resigned
to crunching through them, feeling insects
squish beneath your feet and swarm
up your ankles as you search
for one square foot free
of their creeping, twitching presence,
as you search for one bare spot
on this Earth you can stand.