Locusts positioned their eggs in the corpse
the old worms took wing in an omen of drone
hard as shells
anyone says they hatched
from an unstationed anger
swift to the North
they clothed the sky as a drape pale she
turned, failed she knew he was dead lost
in the desert that
night she dreamed she drove a new
car so new it left no
footprints across the oceans and came
to where he lay in the sand
“She looked
at his face, eaten by the locusts, and tears of
blood filled her eyes.
Ever after” she would not
let her children swat the mosquitoes which might
have fed upon the dead—would lift her
face to the sky—“O locusts if you are seeking
a place from the winter you can find it in my
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