locusts
𐑤𐑴𐑒𐑩𐑕𐑑𐑕
the heat on my face
from the locust box
was like being there
in that imagined desert
hundreds of them
very still
until one would jump
always freaked me out
just a bit
then they would resume
their alert stillness
electric noises
weirdly insect like
in their artificial vivarium
I fed them
following instructions
from the Biology teacher
he had told us
at the start of the course
that it was all about
the study of life
and so I studied them
the stripes on their long bodies
their amazing identical striations
bulbous darkness in their eyes
something both scary
and endearing
I couldn’t make it out
their strangeness
captivating
arriving at the next lesson
I found that the teacher
had prepared a dissection
and the locusts
every last little one
were dead
killed in the name
of a bastard science
if this is the study of life
then they will study it
without me
turning on my heel
I silently left
refusing them the respect
of any debate
𐑞 𐑣𐑰𐑑 𐑪𐑯 𐑥𐑲 𐑓𐑱𐑕
𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞 𐑤𐑴𐑒𐑩𐑕𐑑 𐑚𐑪𐑒𐑕
𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑤𐑲𐑒 𐑚𐑰𐑦𐑙 𐑞𐑺
𐑦𐑯 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑥𐑨𐑡𐑦𐑯𐑛 𐑛𐑧𐑟𐑼𐑑
𐑣𐑳𐑯𐑛𐑮𐑩𐑛𐑟 𐑝 𐑞𐑧𐑥
𐑝𐑧𐑮𐑦 𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑤
𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑦𐑤 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑡𐑳𐑥𐑐
𐑷𐑤𐑢𐑱𐑟 𐑓𐑮𐑰𐑒𐑑 𐑥𐑰 𐑬𐑑
𐑡𐑳𐑕𐑑 𐑩 𐑚𐑦𐑑
𐑞𐑧𐑯 𐑞𐑱 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑿𐑥
𐑞𐑺 𐑩𐑤𐑻𐑑 𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑤𐑯𐑩𐑕
𐑦𐑤𐑧𐑒𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑒 𐑯𐑶𐑟𐑩𐑟
𐑢𐑽𐑛𐑤𐑦 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑧𐑒𐑑 𐑤𐑲𐑒
𐑦𐑯 𐑞𐑺 𐑸𐑑𐑦𐑓𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑤 𐑝𐑦𐑝𐑺𐑾𐑥
𐑲 𐑓𐑧𐑛 𐑞𐑧𐑥
𐑓𐑪𐑤𐑴𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑳𐑒𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟
𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞 𐑚𐑲𐑪𐑤𐑩𐑡𐑦 𐑑𐑰𐑗𐑼
𐑣𐑰 𐑣𐑨𐑛 𐑑𐑴𐑤𐑛 𐑳𐑕
𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑕𐑑𐑸𐑑 𐑝 𐑞 𐑒𐑹𐑕
𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑑 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑷𐑤 𐑩𐑚𐑬𐑑
𐑞 𐑕𐑑𐑳𐑛𐑦 𐑝 𐑤𐑲𐑓
𐑯 𐑕𐑴 𐑲 𐑕𐑑𐑳𐑛𐑦𐑛 𐑞𐑧𐑥
𐑞 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑲𐑐𐑕 𐑪𐑯 𐑞𐑺 𐑤𐑪𐑙 𐑚𐑪𐑛𐑦𐑟
𐑞𐑺 𐑩𐑥𐑱𐑟𐑦𐑙 𐑲𐑛𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑲𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟
𐑚𐑳𐑤𐑚𐑩𐑕 𐑛𐑸𐑒𐑯𐑩𐑕 𐑦𐑯 𐑞𐑺 𐑲𐑟
𐑕𐑳𐑥𐑔𐑦𐑙 𐑚𐑴𐑔 𐑕𐑒𐑺𐑦
𐑯 𐑦𐑯𐑛𐑽𐑦𐑙
𐑲 𐑒𐑫𐑛𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑥𐑱𐑒 𐑦𐑑 𐑬𐑑
𐑞𐑺 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑱𐑯𐑡𐑯𐑩𐑕
𐑒𐑨𐑐𐑑𐑦𐑝𐑱𐑑𐑦𐑙
𐑼𐑲𐑝𐑦𐑙 𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑯𐑧𐑒𐑕𐑑 𐑤𐑧𐑕𐑩𐑯
𐑲 𐑓𐑬𐑯𐑛 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑑𐑰𐑗𐑼
𐑣𐑨𐑛 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑺𐑛 𐑩 𐑛𐑲𐑕𐑧𐑒𐑖𐑩𐑯
𐑯 𐑞 𐑤𐑴𐑒𐑩𐑕𐑑𐑕
𐑧𐑝𐑮𐑦 𐑤𐑨𐑕𐑑 𐑤𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑤 𐑢𐑳𐑯
𐑢𐑻 𐑛𐑧𐑛
𐑒𐑦𐑤𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑯𐑱𐑥
𐑝 𐑩 𐑚𐑨𐑕𐑑𐑼𐑛 𐑕𐑲𐑩𐑯𐑕
𐑦𐑓 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑦𐑟 𐑞 𐑕𐑑𐑳𐑛𐑦 𐑝 𐑤𐑲𐑓
𐑞𐑧𐑯 𐑞𐑱 𐑢𐑦𐑤 𐑕𐑑𐑳𐑛𐑦 𐑦𐑑
𐑢𐑦𐑞𐑬𐑑 𐑥𐑰
𐑑𐑻𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑪𐑯 𐑥𐑲 𐑣𐑰𐑤
𐑲 𐑕𐑲𐑤𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑤𐑧𐑓𐑑
𐑮𐑦𐑓𐑿𐑟𐑦𐑙 𐑞𐑧𐑥 𐑞 𐑮𐑦𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑒𐑑
𐑝 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑛𐑦𐑚𐑱𐑑