Gaffer tape the windows shut if you insist -
they'll only construct an exact replica of your house
facing back towards yours, then seal up their windows,
in that prissy way that flying ants do,
you know - tsk, tsk, tsk, like a glitching harddrive.
And they've got a newer kitchen than yours,
though it's not like they make the best of it -
Agaloads of jam tarts and nowt else.
Soon they'll have bought up half the neighbourhood,
pavements slick with pheromones, their massed bodies
blotting the sun.