8 May 2007 | Vol. 7, No. 1

Please Lord, Do Not Hunt Me!

by ROBERT OSTROM

Some people said that the horses ran into bonfires and wolf spiders ate their mothers. Caged crows were known to mimic the voices of humans; stray cats, in search of food, died trying to cross the harbor. For a while it seemed as if it were all for nothing. For hope, we blended myths with our known truths. We knew the hair of the dead continued to grow, but did buried babies learn to talk? We grew confused. Am I a horse or a crow? My grandfather was a grave so I am a grave. We were livestock waiting for delivery in pens at the station. You will not be back, they said. Christ, look at the stars, the houses, the child at the stove! Some people ran into bonfires, and some people buried their mothers while others tried to speak but they kept saying the same thing: over and over.