Sunday, July 20, 2014


No one knows what the locusts
pray at night
before they storm
the church yards.

Whose number do they
dial, what last minute
lovers do they take?

No one knows
why they
block out the sun sometimes
rather than the moon.

She used to think
That to know these things,
One had to be a locust.

Now she is not sure
If the locusts know anything.

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