cryptid in july poetry day 19, the goat-man

a poem about the goat man

i want to be a cult figure
but i am just a filthy beast
washed only by rainstorms

today i felt so sad that i ran
at 3 a.m.

i head-butted trees
until i knocked them down
and angered birds

i rolled in the grass and screamed
then quietly rocked and cradled
my body
in the fetal position

i stayed very still and quiet and grinned
a little in the dark

i found a jar of aspirin
i drank the bitter pills with rainwater
as fleas bit my head

i saw someone on the bridge and wanted to communicate by rubbing our heads together

i wish i lived in a permanent teen midnight in the suburbs


cryptid in july poetry day 18, the mantis-man

a poem about the mantis-man

the day after his birthday
after a hard night of drinking
deep within a festering
barren pool of pollution
under the city
the mantis-man formerly known as Shane
woke up on his couch at 4:45am
in his underwear
with a terrible stiffness in his neck
saw no texts from his girlfriend
and went back to bed

the mantis-man and his girlfriend are both compliance attorneys in their early thirties
they share an office
they are both left-wing
ultra-conservative conservationists
that spend their off-time flour-pasting environmental flyers to telephone poles

the mantis-man has many problems
the spikes on his grasping forelegs are dull
many people hate him because he is a mantis-man
some people hate him because he has extreme difficulties communicating with others
this makes others feel uncomfortable around him

contrary to what you might think
the mantis-man is not a fictional character


cryptid in july poetry day 17, el cuero


a poem about el cuero

drifting aimlessly
through the surf
on xanax
drinking spinach-cucumber-celery-coconut water
listening to dreamily electronic music with headphones
el cuero
imagined an insane samurai on a battlefield slaying 100 people while screaming coconut water with no one knowing what coconut water is
el cuero
imagined a badly lost time-traveling cyborg fighting 100 jellyfish while experience severe water damage
el cuero
imagined the president beginning a speech with "imagine everything you know is wrong" then 10 minutes of silence
el cuero
imagined itself decorating an apartment with tiny pieces of broccoli and cauliflower
el cuero
imagined itself buying a toy poodle and talking to it nonstop
el cuero
imagined ‘god’ as a giant comet millions of times larger than earth plowing through earth
el cuero
imagined itself tearing out someone’s throat
el cuero
imagined asking random people in boats if they have adderall or xanax and if they do showing them a gun
el cuero
imagined if species of plants had as much advertising every year as brands of drugs
el cuero
imagined if there were people promoting slowness and nature as hard as technology

cryptid in july poetry day 16, the fouke monster

a poem about the fouke monster 

i rub my beautiful fur against the bark of a tree

i have lain on the floor of the forest alone on most major holidays lamenting my lack of motivation, and my financial status

my moans of despair go unnoticed

unseen, i suffer in the vast emptiness of the state park

deer run by me, ignoring my loneliness

i don’t care that i’m unhappy

i hold a degree in animal husbandry

my ex was a prominent meteorologist at a highly-ranked local news station that was independently owned by an environmentalist who believed in global warming and drove a hybrid SUV

we were happy

we moved to a small forest in Arkansas

just outside city limits

but after the miscarriage the meteorologist became moody and defensive

i divorced the meteorologist

the meteorologist went on to write several books of philosophy and was invited to speak on several well-known talk shows

i saw a picture of the meteorologist in people magazine next to an article about the anthropogenic effects of thermal pollution on the natural environment

i don't understand what's wrong with people today


cryptid in july poetry day 15, the squank


a poem about the squank

i cry
from sadness

i cry
like a baby
or someone whose family died in a tornado

i recommend crying

cry and sob sober
while writing a novel

i enjoy saying
”you like talking to yourself, don’t you”
alone in the woods

i realized emotion pain
was just yearning

someone continually cried me into existence
it’s crying
i’m its tears
and when it stops i’ll disappear

if you try to find meaning from this poem
just know
i can create a giant sentence that will kill you

cryptid in july poetry day 14, your favorite lake/sea monster


a poem about the dolphin man of the euphrates river

i pretended i was
taking a vacation alone
because that’s the easiest way to leave and never come back

when was the last time you crossed a body of water

i used to train dolphin pods
for the bomb-squad
and get high on nitrous

imagine you are in a nature sounds mp3 recording of the euphrates river
except that it’s real
and the soft metals and radiation in the water can hurt you

i am the dolphin-man 

all of my bones
will soon be graced with cancer


cryptid in july poetry day 13, the mountain creature caught running behind the google car


a poem about the mountain creature caught running behind the google car

the mountain creature caught running behind the google car was very sad and ashamed because it had to go outside each day for 15 minutes so its skin could absorb UV B radiation and convert that to pre-vitamin D3 and then isomerize that into vitamin D from the sun

after college it had moved home
to allow for
time to think

between naps
it stuffed its face
into its pillow
and said “Aaaaarrrghhhh”

when it woke
it was almost dark out
and it was sweating

its thoughts swam like animals that could not swim

they struggled
floated to the surface

the mountain creature caught running behind the google car can feel a white sphere of energy inside its stomach

it is a scream

it runs out of its room
down the stairs
away from the living room
and into the street

it can’t control its emotional balance

”i don’t want to be on this earth any more,

i wish there were many earths,

and that i had a choice between them,

i think i would be happier if there were many earths,

i wan’t to destroy the earth,

i am not a heart-warming character in a fable of spiritual renewal,

god i feel fucked today,

there are so many details i want to notice in the world,

but don’t,

i’m starting to live inside myself,

inside my own metal illness,

did that car just take my picture?”

cryptid in july poetry day 12, the sandown clown

a poem about sandown clown

at night
every four hours
i wake up
on my deflated
air mattress

i spend an hour
blowing it back
up with my tiny
red triangle mouth

i lay
back in bed and think
of small creatures coughing
and wait for sleep


cryptid in july poetry day 11, the dover demon


a poem about the dover demon

the demon of dover
drags a body down a dirt road
drinks from a bottle of jack
and throws the body into the river

the body splashes
the demon looks at the sinking body

”That’s right mother fucker.
Look at you now!”

the body had lived a stupid life
a preacher it was called
a white baptist bastard
who never had sex with his wife
beat his two kids
spoke about the devil
climbing up people’s bowels
loved SUVs
and blamed the liberal devil
for taking the snow away
from mount kilimanjaro

the river the dover demon
threw the body in is the neponset river
the fish here are used to swimming
past human bodies


cryptid in july poetry day 10, the mongolian death worm


a poem about the mongolian death worm

“what is the difference between being a worm who is accepting of loneliness 

and being an independent worm” 

the mongolian death worm thought 

laying on a bare twin-sized mattress 

set directly on the floor 

40 feet underground

it ate maybe 5mg of adderall

and moved its bed to look for it’s missing e-cigarette

it leaves its burrow to smoke a cigarette

it wishes its entire life’s purpose was to watch cooking shows all day

outside the burrow there stands a man

“I’ve come for you death worm!” the man says

he has a trident, a large heavy-duty garbage bag, and a shop-vac

“this is making me nervous”

“I’m going to kill you”

“you’re ruining my night”

“soon you’ll be dead, I’m serious, I’ve sworn to kill your kind”

“you’re a racist”

“I'm not racist”

“you are killing worms for being worms, that is racism”

“no it isn't, you’re all monsters”

“that’s racial stereotyping”

“hey asshole, I'm a human, I'm better than you”

“you’re a fucking racist”

“your days are done”

“my days are fucking awesome”

the mongollian death worm pulls out a gun and shoots the man in the belly

he falls to his knees

using the trident to hold himself up slightly

“you shot me asshole, that’s unfair, you used a gun, you’re supposed to use your venom”

“soon you’ll be dead, and I'll eat your eyes and crawl through your brain”

the man throws the trident at the death worm but misses and collapses 

the death worm puts the man inside the large heavy-duty garbage bag

takes the shop-vac and puts the tube in the garbage bag and turns it on

it watches the bag curve around the man’s hands and mouth

it pulls out its phone and records the sounds of the man suffocating

it will listen to the recording at night when it’s alone and crying in bed


cryptid in july poetry day 09, the enfield horror


a poem about the enfield horror

I’m an armpit leaping
around the woods on three
legs waiting
for police to arrest me
I’m the living
embodiment of coughing
up hairballs and gathering
them into a pile
and jumping
into the hairballs
like dead leaves in fall
and waiting
for someone to come
and lick
your bellybutton while looking up at you


cryptid in july poetry day 08, the grey man of ben macdui


a poem about the grey man of ben macdui

My wife is not dead
but I am

It worries me
that she is



Things can happen to her
you know

The night I left her

I walked to Waffle House

“Hello, nine
pancakes please”

“Oh GOD!”
The lady screamed and ran out of the building

That was embarrassing

That same night I tried
to steal a hot-air balloon
and leave town

My evanescent hands wouldn’t let me

Eventually I hitched a ride
with a flock of Willow Warblers
some 10,000 miles
to my new home

Every night I've spent
here in Scottland
I've cried

I can't remember my wife's name
no matter how hard I try


cryptid in july poetry day 07, the van meter visitor


a poem about van meter visitor

I fly across the stratosphere

because my go-to strategy when seized

by feelings I don’t want to feel

has always been to throw things

any object in my vicinity

I throw and throw,

and I keep throwing

so now I throw my arms

out like superman

and fly through the night

until my arms start shaking

then it’s arms behind my back

like I’m impersonating a salmon

halfway up a river

and scream inside my brain


cryptid in july poetry day 06, the euroa beast


a poem about the euroa beast

In the middle of the swamp
sweating soldiers knock

on a cottage door
”Just a minute.”

Through the peephole
Eurora Beast sees a line of soldiers

”What’s this about?”

”You stuck your finger
in a light socket
when you were drunk
and the government is pressing charges against you”

”Did I? I have Alzheimer's
or dementia. Please
go away and never
talk to me again.”

”That’s a lie.”

The soldiers open fire on the door of the cottage
Some bullets bounce off the door
leaving dents
Some bullets stick
into the skin of Euroa Beast
Blue blood leaks out of it

The soldiers enter the cottage
Euroa Beast grabs one of them and throws it on the ground
then stomps on its legs

Euroa Beast’s tears fall
on the forehead of the soldier

It grabs another and
stomps on its face

”Stop this!”
Euroa Beast cries


Euroa Beast wakes up
sweating to its cat
sitting on its face
biting its cheeks

”Another nightmare?
I’m hungry and
I vomited in the sink”
The cat says


cryptid in july poetry day 05, indrid cold


a poem about indrid cold

I should have been a hand model

Then no one would think I’m weird for holding my hands up to cover this
huge permanent shit eating grin

If I were a hand model
I’d walk along the interstate and stick out my thumb

Someone would stop ahead of me
and roll down their window waiting

I’d walk up with my hands
covering my face
and say “Please be my friend”

“Excuse me” they’d say

put me in a shopping cart,
tie my ankles and wrists to the inside of
the shopping cart,
and push me into the river.”

”I don’t understand” they’d say
and drive away

I walked back home,
squeezed lemons over my hands
and licked them


cryptid in july poetry day 04, kaiaimunu

a poem about kaiaimunu

With its wet eyes it singled me out at the Christmas party

It’s head swiveling on its long neck

Like me, it found these people boring

It invited me to where it slept

Hidden from the sun

A dark capsule

It gave me a moderate dose of LSD

I laid on the couch

It put its claws on me

And began kissing my nipples over my shirt

“No, you are my friend”

It cracked open the back door

And poked me out into the night

The sky spat lightly all over me


cryptid in july poetry day 03, the beast of bray road

a poem about the beast of bray road

The beast of bray road called the witch three times in one hour

The last time he left a voice mail

“The pond that separates us during the day is being drained”

His heart fell partially through the floor

like a fat man while watching tv

They’re breaking up


cryptid in july poetry day 02, the cactus cat

a poem about the cactus cat

the cactus cat rolls a boulder

away from the mouth of a cave

and thinks: “I am all alone”

It wants to live by the ocean

And stare at it every day

To see the ocean

Through the bottom of a glass of vodka

And point and say

“Look at that!”

And think about relationships it will never have

With people It will never meet

It uses its shoes as a pillow beside a cactus and sleeps


cryptid in july poetry day 01, the flatwoods monster


a poem about the flatwoods monster

her rubber boots enable her to do great things

last week she walked through a creek with her rubber boots on

a brown duck, a gray duck, and a brown and grey duck with a green head swam by

against the current

in the middle of the creek

they didn’t move forward or backward

the flatwoods monster grabbed the brown and grey duck with a green head

it didn’t try to swim or fly away

the flatwoods monster tied a string around its neck

the flatwoods monster walked and the duck flew above it like a balloon

the flatwoods monster and the duck went on a three day killing spree

one night the duck looked into the orange glowing eyes of the flatwoods monster and asked “why did you make me kill things”

the flatwoods monster felt ashamed and stood staring at the ground very still

the duck flew violently forward until the string choked it and broke its neck