༺ bucket ༻

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