testimony (the first apocalypse)
A: Once upon a time, there was a creature
with the face of a bear and the body
of a lizard. Could swim
and climb trees, shake
the young cubs by the loose scruff
at the back of their necks.
The creature loved the sun.
Afternoons it would find
a broad rock and lie there, gleaming.
But soon the heavy, furry head
would begin to sweat. So the creature
licked its claws and torso and tufted
head with a broad and cooling tongue,
and ambled off to a shady bed.
B: Once upon a time, there was a creature
with the face of a bear and the body
of a lizard. Could swim and climb trees,
shake the young cubs by the loose scruff
at the back of their necks like a mother.
How marvelous its skin was, tough and shining
in places. The creature loved the sun.
Afternoons it would find a broad rock
and lead the willing there to watch it gleam.
But soon the heavy, furry head would begin
to sweat. Reluctant to abandon
this perfect spot, the creature
asked who among the cubs
cooling themselves
would be willing to bring it
a drink. All the willing were willing
so it chose among the oldest. Such
a fine job it did bringing the water,
the creature offered some creature
wisdom, querying My dear, what kind
of creature do you want to be? And the sun
and the rock did not look away
as the cubs kept dozing in the shade, their long fur
moving sweetly with their breathing.
C: Once upon a time, there was a creature
with the face of a bear and the body
of a lizard. Could swim and climb trees,
shook the young cubs by the loose scruff
at the back of their necks like a mother
or rough cousin. How marvelous
its skin was, tough and shining
in places, and bright teeth
shown only to keep the wolves away.
Most of all, the creature loved the sun.
Afternoons it would find a broad rock
and lead the willing there
to watch it gleam. But soon
the heavy, furry head would begin
to sweat. Reluctant to abandon
this sought-after spot, the creature
asked who among the cubs
cooling themselves in its shadow
would be willing to bring it
a drink. All the willing were willing
so it chose among the oldest, the one
with the most luxurious coat. Such
a fine job it did bringing the drink, over
and over, the creature offered
it a secret. Do you want
to know the secret, it asked.
Yes, the willing answered,
yes tell me the secret. The secret
isn’t told, the creature said. The secret
is given. And with that licked
the willing’s furred paw with a broad
tongue, the hair coming away
in clumps. The secret hurts a little,
the willing said, not pulling away
the paw. But look what’s underneath
said the creature, pausing
for another swig. What kind of creature
do you want to be? And the sun
and the rock did not look away
and the cubs kept dozing
in the shade, their long fur
moving with their breathing,
knowing someday they too
would be ready, brighter, chosen.
Have something to say? Email comments, questions, responses, and links to relevant articles and literature elsewhere to: rapeculture.and.altlit [at] gmail [dot] com. For the original call for submissions, see here. To read all the essays and poems in the series, click here.
Poet and educator/coach Marty McConnell lives, works, and teaches in Chicago, Illinois. Find more at www.martyoutloud.com.
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