from Archipelago
4. Huck, again
I forgot to tell the bees he was dead, was why. Something that looked like a man looked sly over my left shoulder from the sky. He spoke in beetle clicks, in mothdust. He said pig slash he said mayfly wings. Made air snakeskin, lid-wind, till stars were things that looked like stars but weren’t and the yellow stains of the world all came through my pores. Where you leave a dead snake its mate comes and curls and I forgot, I’m sorry, I forgot. Pap was a snake. Pap was snakes and also their mates. It came of looking at the moon that way. It came of being dead and wanting to stay.