By Katherine Heneghan.
Thousands of cicadas scream out for love
and piss on anyone who laughs
It’s tragic, he says
underground for something like seventeen years
they come up
mate and die
It’s not so bad, I say, to make him laugh
In the river, a man tells his son—
grab fistfuls of water and throw them behind you
We see a red-bellied black snake
and stay very still
The sun falls through cattled water
lands on rocks and feet
Two burnt-orange horses face each other
across a road that kicks up dust
Teenagers throw stones at the farmer’s sign
and eat raspberries from the bank
There’s nothing to do here
they say, the heat and the flies
Keep throwing yourselves into
the river
Swim!
