We found a snake, dead in midmolt.
“It’s almost like two snakes,” I said.
My brother grabbed it by the head
And said, “It just needs lightning bolts.”
Laughing, he jumped the creek and draped
The snake over an electric fence.
Was my brother being cruel? Yes,
But we were shocked when that damn snake
Spiraled off the wire and splayed,
Alive, on the grass, made a fist
Of itself, then, gorgeous and pissed,
Uncurled, stood on end, and swayed
For my brother, who, bemused and odd,
Had somehow become one snake’s god.