Pulse
by Monika Trotula
You say:
Oh she would just swim and swim
somersault in the sea for hours on end
She’s an otter, what does she know
her interests are: clams
You tell me:
Just look at you so robust and grounded!
like a turnip!
Go,
absorb
some soil nutrients!
I wish I was
swift and coarse
insulated with an exceptionally thick fur
capable of living exclusively in the ocean
My coffee bean shaped ears would shut on demand
I would be lulled to sleep caressed by the sea moss
I could easily pierce any hard shell with my bite force of a black bear
or crush it with a piece of rock held in my agile paws
Yet still
I untangle knots nimbly
I wish I was
Succulent and the season’s best
soaking up rhizomatic entrails of the soil
(Viscera Terrae - how sentient of me to know that)
Close to the secrets of wild weeds of spite
fully immersed in the process of life force,
Lurking. Still. Nurtured. Growth unhindered.
I am
a small, tender variety
grown solely for human consumption
Rooting for you
About the author:
Monika
Trotula
Monika Trotula grew up in Poland and currently lives on the English seaside. She is a self-described avid sea kayaker, a guinea pig herd leader, and a moderator of a livestream about otters. She often writes about the sea, forgotten worlds, and the extrapolation of non-human consciousness.
Her short story One Nude Dude was published in Hitchhiking anthology book (Ha!art, Poland, 2005), and has had poetry published in Lucent Dreaming, and The Writers' Club.
Photo: Drifting Away by Erato Magazine via Wombo