Things to Do with a Monster

You have to be a monster, first of all,

or pretend

Walk like them, shift your weight and grunt like them,

put on a mask

Keep your hair just the way it is, greasy,

cascading

Hunch your back only slightly, just enough,

like you’re a witch

Climb atop mesas for the view and pools,

blow on rain

Watch the white-tailed antelope spring about,

with crusty butts

Play house in arroyos, carve out a life:

minimal

Make mud pies on the road after rainfall,

tap them jiggle

Dig wild onions in the north hills of Daghaałgaii

for bone broth

Shoot the breeze on the back of Monster Bird,

extra legroom

Tie sage bundles and hang them out to dry

like jerky

Follow slow moving stinkbugs and smear them

for the smell

Go to a sleepover at “Kicks’s” place, sleep

one eye open

Run alongside them as they hunt their prey,

pray for them

Peel off the skin of wild potatoes,

mash with flesh

Cup your hands at the side of Cove Mountains,

push into her

Chase whirlwinds until they carry us up,

death ascending

Use dried corn husk as tinder for a fire,

monster breaths

Strike the crevice of a rock with a stick,

watch water rise

See your reflection in the stream, his face

rippling into yours