Speaking of Locusts (Untitled.)

Here is a purposely pretentious poem contemplating the killing of locusts sent to me by Jo Hunter.


locust exoskeleton

continues.

The big question

I ask myself

is, "can I justify murder

so that I can send this little exoskeleton,

where it will stay

preserved (in ethyl alcohol 75% and up)

for posterity

with jiejie?"

As I ponder this difficult question

I find myself amongst the hopping

green

locusts

(with purple and red spots)

and ask smaller questions:

"Locii, why haven't you died of natural causes

yet?"

"Why has your brother who died of natural causes

had his head eaten"

by ants?

the locusts stare back

not knowing the big question in my mind

or the sharp safety pin

in my pocket