Tyler Pufpaff
The loom of the figure
stalked the night’s curiosity
exfoliating its feet in the mud
brash—irreverent; a warning
Greed advances; no substitution
for the predator’s eyes
—an identification only seen
in the most desperate; a human rhapsody
Horns used for defense
and possibly display
beckon a charge, then
cleaned feet rear and lift off—
The seasoned hunter
has already cultivated the nerve
to bring up his arms, aiming
at the beast: Earth’s used to be
The white Rhino slumps
and docks at the foot
of erasure—life stolen
never to be communicated why
Even the luminescence
that fills the distance
between this world and the next
does not illuminate the answer
Then
almost baptismal
the hunter drowns the question with a knife.
***
Tyler Pufpaff is the author of A Quarter Life and Editor-in-Chief of Variant Lit. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Crepe & Penn, Boston Accent Lit, Coffin Bell, Poke, Havik, perhappened, and The Daily Drunk Mag among others.