The Right to Squirm

I reserve the right to look at snakes.

Baby Snakes

He found them beneath the house under an old bucket. They looked like noodles squirming in the dirt. He was afraid of them, but reached to pick one up. It tickled his palm & coiled without teeth.

He took the snakes into the house & put them under a hot lamp. The closer he came with the lamp, the faster they moved. He began to prick them with a pin. They hissed and struck at his hand.

He cut off a snake’s head with a kitchen knife. The jaws continued working against the disembodied air. The torso convulsed & spazzed across the desk. The watery blood made crude S’s on the desktop.

He made love to his girlfriend that night. They squirmed & twisted themselves like wild tree roots. They molded themselves into a solid brain tissue.