I was born. I did things. Now I’m here. Scientist by day. Metal singer by night. Game Master.

Search This Blog

7/19/22

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


No comments:

Post a Comment