#4 – Cryptozoology – Tony Brown

walmor-correa-cryptozoology-art

On February 6, DMC celebrates its TWO-YEAR ANNIVERSARY! Holy mackerel, time flies. It’s been a great year. We’ve published hundreds of pieces this year that we feel proud and honored to share, and we also put out our first book! This week we will be counting down the Top Ten Most Read posts from our second year of existence, and will present #2 and #1 on Saturday, February 6. Thanks for being part of a wild and excellent two years.


So, there's this website where you click to spin a wheel 
and it tells you how to make a life decision 
based on you doing what a unicorn would do
if a unicorn was in the same situation you're facing.
I spun the wheel this morning 
and it said I should 
"whinny and rear." 
Well, I do this all the time so it didn't seem to be a huge stretch. 
I was glad I was not advised to nuzzle a newborn or frolic in a meadow.
I was hoping that I'd be told to impale evil things 
but I confess I'm not really in shape for that.
(Good call, wheel.)
So: out the front door on my hind legs,
waving my arms around. 
My voice has too much tobacco in it for a solid whinny, 
but I made some sort of approximate noise 
as I went forth.
At the gas station, the pump refused my credit card. I whinnied at it. 
There wasn't much space to rear since I'd parked too close to the pump, 
but I managed something that didn't look too un-unicorn-like
and fulfilled the prophecy. I was becoming mythical! 
Certainly, the pump's refusal to honor my credit made that belief credible.
I drove out to the Tower Hills, just outside the city. 
I knew I'd be the lone unicorn out there, since it's not the season for the regular unicorns -- 
while they equally adore frolicking in meadows covered in snow or wildflowers, 
the mud of a Massachusetts spring is something they'd rather not touch.
They go to Arizona, I think, in winter.
I pulled off the road by the reservoir 
and found a trail there, 
which I followed to a bar
in a clearing.
The bar was better furnished than I would have expected, 
and the drinks were well made and cheap. 
The bartender greeted me with a nod; 
apparently I had been there before, 
though it all seemed new.
I knew no one else,
at least by their faces,
though I recognized them by their traits --
gryphons whose wings had been stolen, 
chimeras with odd parts from random plastic surgeries, 
basilisks who could turn you to Corian with a single glance.
I joined my fellow cryptids there 
and we indulged in our fortunes 
for many, many hours 
until I was drunk on the dizzying rhythm 
of my whinnying and rearing.
I came home flecked with sweat
and exhausted. I dreamed of virgins 
seeking me, I dreamed of eluding capture --
and then I woke up -- here. Again.
I'm going to return
to that website with its majestic wheel.
It tells me old stories 
that make me feel like I'm not alone 
in believing that there's a greater purpose. 
I know it's supposed to be for amusement only,
but it's a joke
that has led me to a place 
where I feel almost verified
and almost at home.
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About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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