By, Zenia Rios
There is an alligator
out of the bayou,
by the highway;
right where it shouldn’t be,
right where it’s always been.
Hardly noteworthy,
locals say, Don’t mind
the monster in our midst.
Visitors’ eyes widen,
taking in rough green-
black skin, natural
camouflage in stagnant waters.
Centuries past,
Spaniards trekked through
these same wetlands,
voices echoing,
¡El lagarto!
¡El lagarto!
Lizard seems a strange
turn of phrase
for this half-ton beast,
who exerts two thousand
pounds of pressure with
its jaws as it drags its victim
writhing, squirming,
bleeding and crying,
holding it under
the slow moving river
until its movements cease
and it is consumed.
Surely someone trained
could remove it
from this highway?
Surely someone could,
and then it will return
as it always does.
An alligator can survive
freezing weather
if it remains in water.
