[oats]

Mythical Creatures


a cold and blustery day, like the last 1000 before
a constant buzz sat on top of us, the air’s a powerful storm
that let us shower in our cowardice - we have no outward importance -
until the morning I courted it from my house at the door
aroused to explore, I froze in a sickened demeanor
at the site of it, like a frightened kid, a pitiful seizure
scanned it up and down, impossible! all the typical features
of what we learned in fairytales of the Mythical Creatures

it had the signature pieces of the giants of old
wrapped in long obsidian hair, eyes a fiery gold
they roamed the land in massive structures, mighty and bold
and tamed the depths underfoot and placed the skies in their hold
As a child I was told they were great seekers of Truth -
(they were lies, I supposed, but don’t hold me to my youth!)
they were teachers and prophets, the keepers of knowledge
clinging to secrets for solace from their meagerly proofs

till they believed in a ruse that the planet belonged to them
when in fact they were captive, inhabiting caustic pens;
confined by their desires: colliding dishonest whims
were the seeds of their undoing that they sowed their conflicts in
constantly quarreling. it stained their species’ existence
never united - each one of them was equally vicious
one evil achievement insisted another’s need to eclipse it
till the day they set the sky aflame. there’d be no peace or forgiveness.
seasons since don’t exist in the Earth we inherited
their curse was our carriage; we were birthed from their arrogance
service is imperative - to them that idea would be unsuitable discussion
we sacrifice for the greater good; they only united in their mutual destruction.

he was huge, with mold and dust outflowing like a draping gown -
whether they were God’s first creation or the other way around
this one was facing down at me with a placid, distinct grin
the smug desperation of a beast who couldn’t fathom extinction
he laughed as he inched slowly toward my home and kids
he was intent to turn this place to a morgue - I hope they hid
his motion limped, so close I could notice his broken ribs
he was stoic, gripped with a refusal to coexist

no one had ever been as close as this, his shadow was calming
until the last thing I saw: the final darkness upon me.

the creature collapsed, leaving a path of violence and
a single roach out of billions…stuck beneath the boot of the last surviving man