Black Petals Issue #95 Spring, 2021

Microcosmus
Home
BP Editorial Page
BP Artist's Page
BP Guidelines
Mars-News, Views and Commentary
Blue Meet-Fiction by George Aitch
Dark Alleyways-Fiction by Adam Phillips
Iris' Vanity-Fiction by Tristan Miller
Scalp Cleanse-Fiction by Kajetan Kwiatkowski
The Muscus-Fiction by Stevie Binx
The Wrong Place-Fiction by Ante Caleta
Things That Happen-Fiction by Guido Eekhaut
Tidal Horror-Fiction by Sal Braden
Two Martinis In-Fiction by Hillary Lyon
Vampire-Fiction by Gene Lass
Hypnic Jerk-Flash Fiction by Vismay Harani
Speed Dating-Flash Fiction by Alexander Condie
Step Out-Flash Fiction by Ed Nobody
The Packing Bay-Flash Fiction by Kenneth James Crist
Trophy Kill-Flash Fiction by Eddie D. Moore
Occupational Hazard-Flash Fiction by Doug Hawley
The Definition of Crash-Poems by Paul David Adkins
Ghost: A Working Definition-Poem by Carl E. Reed
Vampiric Threnody-Poem by Carl E. Reed
Leelanau Lake Monster-Poems by Richard Stevenson
Ballast-2 Poems by Angelo Letizia
Pit Bull-3 Poems by Pete Mladinic
Shadow of Sleep-Poem by Teresa Ann Frazee
Microcosmus-3 Poems by Daniel Snethen
The Higher Dimensions-Poem by David C. Kopaska- Merkel

Microcosmus

 

Daniel Snethen

 

Microcosmus, the great Kraken,

nemesis of Captain Nemo, still drags

his tentacles through the briny sea.

 

Asleep for 140 years since pulling

the Nautilus through the Maelstrom

June 2, 1868 to the bottom of the sea.

 

The gargantuan tentacled cephalopod,

now famished, searches

from the Marianna Trench of the North Pacific

to the coast of the Adriatic Sea.

 

In his wake whirls the Maelstrom,

the wicked monstrous whirlpool,

most malignant storm ever to shake the seven seas.

 

Beware all ye sea captains, watch after thy mates.

Beware all ye pirates, thy ships are never safe.

Avoid the wake of the great Kraken,

 for the Kraken has awakened.

 

Microcosmus is very angry,

Microcosmus is feeling famished

and Microcosmus the great Kraken

is storming the seven seas.

 

 

Population Explosion

 

Daniel Snethen

 

universal galactic war

cosmic catastrophism

interstellar immigration

Earth the blue marble

post apocalyptic melting pot

 

 

Rat-rotter

 

Daniel Snethen

 

I’m not a Rottweiler.

I’m meaner than one.

Ask Leroy Brown.

 

I saw a Lakota Heyoka

pull the severed head of one

from out of a boiling cauldron

during a kettle dance.

 

He placed it in my hands

directed me, like Jesus,

to feed my gathering students.

It made great medicine.

 

Nah, I’m not a Rottweiler,

I’m not that sacred, not Wakan.

 

What I am though,

is a rat-rotter.

I make money

rotting rats.

 

You know they’re fully

cooked,

when they swell-up

with bloat-gas

ready to pop.

 

A rotted rat-male

is particularly impressive.

 

His scrotum inflates

like an overfilled balloon—

it’s volume to body ratio

more impressive

than a prized Hereford bull’s.

 

I am a world class rat-rotter.

 

My rotted rats are delicacies,

ambrosia for the King

of Carrion Beetles—

Nicrophorus americanus

the endangered

American burying beetle.

 

I place this

putrid repast of rodent

in the bottom

of five-gallon buckets

buried into the savannah

of Nebraska and Dakota.

 

Rancid rat flesh

emanates a lovely fragrance

which the Lords

of the Eaters of Death

cannot resist.

 

And these black and orange

prairie sextons,

these tiger-like necrophages

fly from miles around

to lasciviously engage

in coleopteran copulatory-orgies.

Daniel G. Snethen is a naturalist, educator and poet residing on the Pine Ridge Reservation in SD. His best friend is his three-legged dog Knightly who recently overcame his battle against cancer. It cost Knightly his leg but gained him his life. For this, Snethen is eternally grateful.

Site Maintained by Fossil Publications