yes, this is an alligator, not a crocodile.

This is an ekphrastic poem in response to the children’s book The Truth About Crocodiles by Maxmillian Eaton III.

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250198440/thetruthaboutcrocodiles

Crocodiles are devoted mothers.

Cold blooded.

Crocodile mothers guard their nests

communing with their unborn children

synchronizing their breaths

to a shared miracle moment

of collective hatching.

Cold blooded animals don’t burn.

The mothers carry their children

by the mouthful

to safer seeming waters

dutifully watching over them

starving themselves

to see their children

live.

Cold blooded animals don’t burn their own energy.

Crocodile mothers slipping down the banks

of their homelands

stolen

destroyed

poisoned

erased

nests collapsing

burying their children.

Cold blooded animals don’t burn energy to stay warm, like humans do.

There was a large chest freezer, a tank really,

and in it was a crocodile and a small, brown child.

The child said nothing, laid still, eyes wide, erased.

Cold blooded.

We did not intend for the crocodile to eat the child,

but merely placed them together,

thinking nothing more of it than 2 specimens in the same tank for observation.

We closed the freezer lid, leaving them in darkness together.

We left to get meat for the crocodile.

Cold blooded animals depend.

Only later did I have the terrifying realization of what might become of the child.

Horrified, I rushed back to the freezer, lifted the lid and wept.

All that remained of the child was part of their femur bone, glistening white.

She had taken the child into her mouth.

Cold blooded animals depend on the warmth.

I was out of my mind with grief, horror, guilt…

but the scientists around me were calm, unconcerned,

and began to discuss the need to procure a new child.

It dawned on me, the horrific nature of the child’s death,

and I couldn’t help but wonder at the pristine nature of the tank walls.

No blood. Not a drop.

Cold blooded animals depend on the warmth around them.

I woke up.

My skin armored, teeth bared,

seeing through crocodile eyes.

Unable to scream,

vibrating with subaudible moans,

Thrashing.

Tearing myself into pieces

I could swallow.

——————

All work on this site are the intellectual property of the writers of Lilith Rising and Calluna vulgarling. All rights reserved. You are encouraged to share links to this site, and pieces can be printed and shared with proper attribution (Calluna v. with a link to this site). No commercial use of any work on this site is allowed without written permission. Contact information can be found on the About Lilith Rising page.