Dead Ants in the Basement

Sweep. Sweep up all those ants.
One zillion specks strong.
Deader than a door nail
Daddy wants them all swept and gone.

Down. Down into the basement
On daddy's firm orders.
No quibbling about it
Cause daddy never gives us quarter.

Sweep! Sweep! I grab the broom
While Russ grabs the pan.
Daddy grabs the trash bag
While mama grabs Mellisa's little hand.

Down! Down! Our feet step in sync.
First daddy.
Then mama.
Then sis.
Then brother.
Then I.
The irony not lost on me
That we march down the steps like ants in a line.