by Michelle Cherian
I am a capybara with no integrity or sneakers.
I am a flower child born to farm parents who couldn’t stand the farm no more.
So my mother went to the suburbs.
She yells at me because I run on the concrete with no shoes.
I tell her not to worry because I’m usually rolling through grass.
She gets mad when I pick flowers to make wedding bouquets.
I tell her I can’t wait until I love myself enough to propose.
She says to stop playing in the sun or I’ll get sick.
My father went to the city.
And he always lost me in the schools of people.
I would let go of his hand and feel the waves wash over me.
It’s the closest I’ve got to an ocean.
I just wanted to feel like a mermaid.
I’ve always stood at the edge of the platform waiting for the subway.
I am the one they make all the announcements about.
I get too caught up in watching the rats survive.
A capybara is just a huge rat, right?
Maybe they can teach me something.
