Monsters

by Lucas Pingel

Sometimes when the snake tries to swallow its tail
it succeeds. Let’s get a tattoo of this so we never forget.

Look at the walrus catching every egg
the eggman fires her way. How we identify

in this moment is only temporary. Every bomb
that has ever dropped has always been justified

by somebody, every bullet, every cursed spittle
containing the code to humanity shows no clear

sign of the little monsters inside us. When I’m asked
how many siblings I have, I don’t know

what to say. When I erase him, I feel a little better.
A tiny little murder I nurture into the world

that will eventually grow up. There are days
I can feel how it sits within my throat. There are

other days, like this morning, where I’m fishing
little bits of shell from the bowl of raw eggs

that got there either because of my lack of precision
or because they see themselves as the food, not the waste.