Is a Swan

The lizard stares at me and blinks. Flaps of skin hang from its neck and belly, as if it used to be plump. I stroke its back, feeling its bones beneath its soft scales. I lean in close, kiss it on its head, and apologize.

 *

I pinch two of the spider's legs and stretch them as far as they can go.. Its remaining legs flail wildly as it hangs there. I love this creature for its mad optimism, and for a moment I consider rewarding its perseverance.

 *

I dip my hands in the bucket and scoop up a number of small minnows. I raise my hands, letting the water drain from them, leaving the fish to flop and twitch. I see a dark shape rise from the bottom of the bucket, cutting through the remaining fish, speeding toward the surface, coming ever closer.

*

The brown paper wrapping is damp and pungent. I shake the package and hear a thumping from inside, followed by a low whimper. I pluck at the string, which is knotted very taut around the box. It makes a sort of twang which I find pleasing. I pluck it again. I hear another whimper. Soon we are playing a duet that neither of us know how to end.

*

It perches on my bare shoulder, featherless and shivering. I'm shivering as well, naked on this wooden chair. I'm not sure how long we can go on like this.

*

A mouse, or a very small rat, has wedged itself into a crack in the concrete. I feed it every day and give it water to drink from an eyedropper. I wonder: if I stop feeding it, will it lose enough weight to free itself? Or will it die? For now, I'm not willing to take the chance.

 *

I read about a horse tiny enough to hold in your fist. I read about a centipede long enough to wrap about your hips. I read about a frog with skin so greasy it slides along until it hits an obstacle. I read about an ape with no arms or legs or eyes or ears or mouth. No one knew how it lived, and no one was willing to cut it open to find out.

 *

On a stone jutting out of the surf stands a small crab holding its severed claw in its remaining one, shaking it defiantly at the sky.

 *

If you smear anchovy paste across a calf's nose, it will go limp and will not fight when you lift it in your arms. If you cover the eyes of a coyote with a cloth soaked in a pregnant woman's urine, it will meekly follow the sound of your voice. If you drizzle motor oil across the belly of a skink, it will someday grow up to be a dragon.

 *

Is a swan

 *

I hold out my hand and it steps onto my palm. It twists up my arm and curls around my neck. It burrows down my shirt, searching for an opening into my chest. Its whiskers and cold nose tickle my flesh, as do its little claws, just before they start to dig.

 *

It takes four of us, all getting in one another's way as we ease the beast down the spiral staircase, one step at a time, as she moans and kicks weakly with her hooves.

 

*

Its wings keeps coming off and we just keep reattaching them.