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Susan H. Case
Mapinguari
Hidden under thick trees,
dozens stalk darkness.
Stink of death, remoteness.
Hefty hairy
Mapinguari.
Seven hunters have shot one,
eighty have seen one.
Heard them growl
with scratchy teeth.
A clay cast—a weighty footprint.
They walk on their knuckles.
Three large toes.
Claws mark a copaiba tree.
It is said one lives inside each of us.
Lurks in crevices
of ancient deeds and thoughts.
Comes out in dreams for air.
| Susan H. Case's recent work can be found in Animus, Eclipse, Georgetown Review, The GW Review, and many other places, including “The Dark and The Light” issue of Terrain.org. She is the author of The Scottish Café (Slapering Hol Press, 2002) and can be reached via her website at http://iris.nyit.edu/~sgray. |
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