So, dude, are you
Flesh or phantasm?
I get that.
Wanna know how
you do it—
in English yet!
(Must get into that).
First, is you or
ain’t you my baby, ET?
For how long have you
hadda hold on me?
A friend, not a foe…
The places you’ve
By astral projection
or time machine?
More like a pill
Tossed down some space gullet.
Totally tubular, unplugged…
in annudda black hole…
speedin’ toward the melon head
silhouette. Really diggin’ the ride!
Will you open my melon,
forgo the anal probe?
Can the sheets, sure, but also
can the cellophane cling wrap?
I’m feelin’ like ground beef
at the grocer’s. Your eyes,
so big, black and deep,
kinda crept me out—at first.
Then I just thought, Ray Bans, cool!
You let me swim in their pools…
Biochemical romance? You’ve got
me in a trance. Wanna snog on Oz?
Stop at a Mars Bar
that serves Tex Mex burritos,
maybe has peanut shells, single malts
and sawdust on the floor?
Fire up the intergalactic
Son Ra or Miles and Hendrix.
Plug me into a totally translucent
transcendental tube steak.
Log?! Ripple?! Gas bubbles?!
That what you think of me?
Hold still, I’ll give you gas bubbles!
Just cos the Loch Ness Monster
flaunts his flippers for the press
doesn’t mean I’m not impressive.
Dig these twenty-four-foot coils.
You best believe my main squeeze
likes to cuddle up with me!
Hold on! I’m not some reticulate
that’s gonna put the squeeze on you
until your eyes pop out! Not me!
I’m a peaceful plant eater,
sip on duckweed and crud
the way you sip your tea!
You’ll get no grief from me!
just cos my back is as broad
as an overturned boat.
I just like to loaf, drape
the boa of my soul around
the logs bobbin’ in the shallow shoals.
Ah-choo! I know, I know:
say it; don’t spray it!
Hard to do with such a snout.
Myself, I like to twist and shout,
Snog and boogie when my goil
Suzy Storjood flaps a flipper, yo.
Globster, or Basking Shark remains?
Sea serpent with six legs or flippers?
Fifty-five-feet long, snout to tail,
but then part of the tail had rotted away.
By any account, a monster of the sea,
a most unusual, controversial critter.
A surviving dinosaur? Some undiscovered
Who says it had to be a Basking Shark?
Hell, if I were a shark, I wouldn’t
be basking on an island off Scotland.
I’d pick somewhere warmer than that
to park my sorry weather-beaten keister.
But, what the hey. If a storm brought
from the deeps, it could have been dead
a long time, filled with gas, and floated
to where the lashing waves deposited it.
We’d be none the wiser, having barely
the bottom of the ocean. Maybe it just
A prehistoric critter frozen in Arctic ice,
it melted, perfectly preserved until
the waves got to it. Might not even be
a Scottish denizen. Could have been
swimming in some Bahamian bay
when an asteroid hit the
Got flash-frozen when a dozen active
filled the atmosphere with heavy smoke
and a tsunami readjusted the shoreline.
Got carried off in an Ice Age ice cube—
an olive in a frozen highball, until global
reversed the process. Then got pecked
at by sea gulls.
Maybe it decided to fish deeper waters.
Left unsettled bays and coral reefs
for open ocean. Put on a layer of
and survived as a species for centuries.
Too bad scientists didn’t have DNA testing
when he put in an appearance in 1808.
We humans lost a chance to ID it
When it began to rot. No photos,
no DNA, no very good guesses
of what it might have been. So sad.
Another bad ass cryptid bit the dust.
Waves threw sheets over his remains.
Teggie of Lake Bala
O.K., so you’ve only caught glimpses of me
since the last century. So I’m playin’
to Loch Ness Nestor and Madame Nessie.
Don’t mean I’m not a badass cryptid
or can’t put on my own show. I just
don’t trust fishermen. Don’t need no lip
See, you don’t know whether I’m a mammal
or an ancient fish, a serpent
or overgrown northern pike, or dinosaur.
I’d rather laugh than roar. Am content
to keep you guessing. Cryptid Cryptologist
leaving cryptid wiggles and blips on yer
Can’t be a crocodilian or snake—
Couldn’t take Wales’ cold winters.
Could be a remnant relative of some
Could be a descendent of WWI Allied Seals
left in the lake after the government’s
to train bomb-laden suicide seals failed.
I like that legend. Could have legs
and get up outta the water and walk!
Heh! Heh! Lemme high five Darwin with a
Eat Gwyniads, fish that date
back to the prehistoric era
and only thrive in Lake Bala—
nowhere else in the world!
So why not another dinosaur
that don’t gnosh on trout or kippers?
Could Lake Bala be an aqueous
wormhole portal to other eras?
Could antediluvian aliens be restocking
Love that one. Concerned egg heads
try their three-fingered hands at
a little earth animal and plant husbandry….
Why not? Might as well muck out
yer human stalls and genome while they’re
Maybe Homo S III will be the bomb!
Stevenson, email@example.com, of
Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada , wrote BP #86’s poem quartet—“Saucer, Schmosser,”
“Storsjoodjuret,” “Stronsay Beast,” & “Teggie of Lake Bala” (+ BP #83’s
poems, “El Cuero,” “La Llorona,” “Penelope,” and “Pope Lick Monster”; BP #82’s
poems, “Killer Clowns,”
“Queensland Tiger,” “The Turtle Lake Monster,” and “Vermont Pig Man”; BP
#80’s poems, “Bondegezu…”, “Donkey Woman,” “Napes,” and “The Yeren’s
Complaint”; BP #76’s poems, “Honey Island Swamp Monster,” “Skin Walker,” and
“Ucu.”) From a series called Cryptid
Shindig, these collected poems concern cryptid encounters, ET lore, or
unexplained phenomena; others have appeared in three published volumes in the
series: Why Were All the Werewolves
Men? (Thistledown Press, 1994),
Nothing Definite Yeti (Ekstasis Editions, 1999), Take Me to Your Leader!
(Bayeux Arts Inc., 2003), and in a New
& Selected volume called Bigfoot
Boogie. Retired from a thirty-year gig teaching English and Creative
Writing at Lethbridge College, the poet
has published thirty books in that time. His most-recently published books
are haikai poetry collections: Fruit
Wedge Moon (Hidden Brook
Press, 2015), The Heiligen Effect
(Ekstasis Editions, 2015), Rock, Scissors, Paper: The
Clifford Olson Murders (a
long poem from Dreaming Big Publications, 2017) and A Gaggle of Geese (haiku,
senryu, tanka, kyoka, zappai, and haikai
sequences from Alba Publishing in the U.K.). Other poems from the cryptid
critter series have appeared in Aphelion,
The Literary Hatchet, On Spec, Liquid Imagination Online, etc. (25+ mags
so far) besides the 3 previously published collections mentioned.