I found " The Locust Tree in Flower" by William Carlos Williams but nothing of " The Locust". It could be your own poem? Great picture though and lovely processing, it looks me straight in the eye and says: How do you do?
The locust is created from adolescence by desire.
Anything else is merely a grasshopper.
The locust isn't like a mouse, indifferent to the disease it carries.
Without a plague, there is no locust,
flying over anxious miles,
rolling over vibrant fields,
spattered brightly on rotting barns
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