Strength in numbers, that’s
what they say. It’s me against one thousand tiny ants, and they’re clearly
winning, because it’s 2 in the morning and I’m sitting amidst them on the bed,
writing about how they’re bothering me, when I should be sleeping. It’s an army
and they have launched a surprise attack.
I’m staying at a friend’s
house on the way to another friend’s house, because I left my site this morning
but won’t reach my destination until tomorrow. She arranged a nice large
mattress with a sheet on the floor for me, but unfortunately, it’s ant season,
and ants don’t respect personal space.
They’re like mini chocolate
chips – because they’re small, so many more of them can fit in a given area.
They started in one corner of the bed, so I swept them off and moved to the
other corner, but they brought back-ups and are now swarming half the bed and
have surrounded the other side. I’m curled up on the only unoccupied space, but
they keep finding me. One just crawled across the paper I’m writing on. Two are
actually inside the lantern, crawling around between the small lightbulbs and
the plastic covering, making strange shadows on my notebook. How did they find
their way into the lantern? I have no idea, but those two are now trapped, I just
have to figure out how to deal with the other nine hundred ninety nine.
Instead of valiantly defending myself, I
will burst into song:
The ants go marching one by
one, porra, porra*
The ants go marching one by
one, porra, porra
The ants go marching one by
one, they wake me up, they think it’s fun
And they all go marching in
From outside
To get out
Of the rain
The ants go marching two by
two, porra, porra*
The ants go marching two by
two, porra, porra
The ants go marching two by
two, and now I don’t know what to do
And they all go marching in
To the house
To get out
Of the rain
The ants go marching three by
three, porra, porra*
The ants go marching three by
three, porra, porra
The ants go marching three by
three, oh why won’t they just let me be
And they all go marching up
On the bed
To get out
Of the rain
The ants go marching four by
four, porra, porra*
The ants go marching four by
four, porra, porra
The ants go marching four by four,
they just keep coming, more and more
And they all go marching in
To the sheets
To get out
Of the rain
The ants go marching five by
five, porra, porra*
The ants go marching five by
five, porra, porra
The ants go marching five by
five, you squish one and it’s still alive
And they all go marching in
To my hair
To get out
Of the rain
The ants go marching six by
six, porra, porra*
The ants go marching six by
six, porra, porra
The ants go marching six by
six, their pincers feel like little pricks
And they all go marching a-
Cross the floor
To get out
Of the rain
The ants go marching seven by
seven, porra, porra*
The ants go marching seven by
seven, porra, porra
The ants go marching seven by
seven, I want to sleep, it’s 2:11
And they all go marching o-
ver my arms
To get out
Of the rain
The ants go marching eight by
eight, porra, porra*
The ants go marching eight by
eight, porra, porra
The ants go marching eight by
eight, what can I do? Just sit and wait
And they all go marching on
The mattress
To get out
Of the rain
The ants go marching nine by
nine, porra, porra*
The ants go marching nine by
nine, porra, porra
The ants go marching nine by
nine, a midnight snack, on me they dine
And they all go marching in
To my clothes
To get out
Of the rain
The ants go marching ten by
ten, porra, porra*
The ants go marching ten by
ten, porra, porra
The ants go marching ten by
ten, swept them away, came back again
And they all go marching in
To my dreams
To get out
Of the rain
*porra = a Mozambican-Portuguese interjection meaning "what the heck!" or "shoot!" (to put it kindly)
