Today I am weight. Today my tail quivers with the herd’s, a burly
pack of cattails swirling. I am big-bellied, furry, untamable. I am
full of grass. Today I get to think about my next meal. Today I
daydream about the rut, strutting and curling my lip, grunting with
my tongue outstretched. Today I want to wallow in the mud with
all the other lip-curlers, licking pheromonal heat. Shuffle of
salivating verve. Scruff of soul. Today I hoist my bulging bulk. My
nose twitches with distant splays of sweat. Ears infused in
chemical cues. I am nature, never devil. Today I give my love
away.
Now I am lost weight. Cortisol summoner. My hooves grind
mistletoe to dust. I can hear the sun ringing like a bell, ticking
metronome, red accelerating. Subterranean stir. Adrenal frequency.
The hunters are here. I bellow out to the herd, a gurgling
beg-shriek. Now the rifles cackle, splitting the air with spittling
bullets. I sicken, stuck with my unused love. I sprint the fear
furious, a marble rolling of the metal track. The ground retreats. I
dive after it, gouging the mist of tears with my horns. Then the
fatal crater. Beaten drum. Broken skin. I am bleeding then done
away.
Tomorrow I will be dead weight. Tomorrow my brethren won’t
circle around my lifeless body. They will be dead too. Tomorrow I
will be too dead to be right. The hunters will wear my skin as a
coat of victory. Sliced hide. Shucked husk. Tomorrow I will be a
rancid steak torn by men. Tomorrow I will feed the greed of
thousands. They will make me prisoner of their stomachs. They
will have teeth in the regime. Tomorrow their leader will wear my
horns upside-down, pointing toward hell. Tomorrow in a silver
gelatin afterlife I will pray to you riotously. Tomorrow, do not walk
away.
2026