The Animals We ImagineBy Paul Vermeersch
It is not the animals in the wilderness that lure us
to the wilderness, but the animals we imagine. Still, it is good to be prepared. First, do not try to be invisible. Invisibility is easy. The challenge is to be seen. It is the same for us as it is for them. If we discover that the yeti in the wilderness is only a bear, then we have discovered nothing. The yeti we imagine still evades us. Always look to the future. Do not be deterred. If you think you saw something, you did. If you think you know something, you do. You must become your imaginary self. Now imagine you are powerful; you are a giant, fiery bear with a star for a heart. Imagine this is what you are, and then become it. Repeat After MeBy Paul Vermeersch
I, Homo sapiens, accept the third
testament shall be engraved on the trunk of an old felled oak, courtesy of a home legal will kit. What else is there to say? Mutter like a cockroach, Scuttlebug. Creak in the cartilage, the body’s complaints articulating: saying stay, saying stain, saying sting like a sacrilege, like iodine, like a good boy. Hey, Homo sapiens! What have they done to me? In the ground our bones will drink the bedrock for a billion years. Can anyone out there hear me? C’mon. C’mere. Meme me. Mi-mi-mi-mi-mi-mi-mi-mi! [Repeat]. How to Protect Yourself from MonstersBy Paul Vermeersch
Observe the formalities. Call them
by name. Mister Bogeyman. Lord of the Flies. Civility disarms them. Band together. They want you torn-- from the breast, from the page. Burn candles. Use nightlights. One in each corner. Let them do nothing in secret. Look under the bed. Is it you, El Cucuy? Or Slenderman? The act of naming conjures forth, but it also holds in place. Call them out: Son of the Dragon, White Worm, and Troll. Speak each name, but do not let them write these in your sleep. Their signature is a row of fangs. LeviathanBy Paul Vermeersch
1
She is a sea serpent, a school crush, a pop star—whatever creature is required. Can you reel her in with a hook or cast a rope around her tongue? The more you try, the more plainly she eludes you. Where? The airwaves teem with rumors: Leviathan will not pull through. Her song of submerged howler monkeys and guitar feedback will surface, playing in and out of commercials for farewell concerts and pain cream—her song from the abyss, from the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, will swell on Music Television: RSVP. 2 Whatever inhabits the deep, she is whatever. Don’t be literal. There are too many risks, too many depths. Can you thread a cable through her nostril or pierce her jaw with a harpoon? The airwaves only speculate. You awake in your car, already en route. Dim your lights and drive. Follow the fog and listen to the same repeating briefs, the shaking voice repeating: you must believe that when Leviathan dies, she dies in error. She does not die to release our secret pain, or to escape the horrors glimpsed in chemical light—a light that splits the deep blue dark from other, deeper monsters. 3 Leviathan performs as needed. Who dares open the doors of her mouth, ringed about with fearsome teeth? Her song makes the depths churn like a boiling cauldron. We don’t understand it, so we think it’s beautiful. When she was married, she left a glistening wake behind her, and we believed the ocean had white hair. Now we will believe her death’s an accident, and grieve her as we would our neighbour in a wreck—a wreck in which the airwaves still bring rumors of Leviathan: how her song’s gone dark, how the water boils beneath a bay of dead cod, the many thousands of her daughters hatching from the salt. 
In his human form, Paul Vermeersch is a poet, professor, artist and editor. The author of five collections of poetry, including The Reinvention of the Human Hand, a finalist for the Trillium Book Award, and Don’t Let It End Like This Tell Them I Said Something, he teaches in the Creative Writing & Publishing program at Sheridan College and is senior editor of Wolsak and Wynn Publishers where he runs the Buckrider Books imprint. His next collection Self-Defence for the Brave and Happy will appear with ECW Press in this fall. He lives in Toronto. In his digital form he can be found at www.paulvermeersch.ca.
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