/ / Issue 19, Uncategorized


Young walruses, we all must adapt! For example, 
some of your ancestors gouged the world 
with four tusks, but you can grow only two. 
It’s hard to say what evolution plans for your kind, 
but if given a choice,
you should put in a request for thumbs. 
Anyway, congratulations! You’re entering 
a world that’s increasingly hostile and cruel 
and full of people who’ll never take you seriously
though that will be a mistake on their end. 
You are more tenacious than they know. 
You’ll be a fierce and loyal defender 
of those you love. You will fight polar bears 
when they attack your friends and sometimes you’ll win.
Of course, odds always favor the polar bear, 
but that’s not the point. The point is courage.
The point is bravery. The point is you are all fighters
even when the fight in which you find yourself
ensures unpleasant things will happen to you. 
For example, the bear will gnaw apart your skull 
or neck until you stop that persistent twitching; 
it will eat your skin, all of it, then blubber, then muscle, 
then the tears of your loved ones, in that order; 
it will savor every bite, and you will just 
suffer and suffer until the emptiness can wash over you. 
The good news is: things change! 
For example: the environment. 
Climate change, indeed, is bad for you, 
but it’s worse for polar bears whose conservation status 
is now listed as “vulnerable” which is one step removed 
from “endangered” which is one step removed 
from “extinct” which is a synonym 
for Hooray! None of you get eaten! 
I suppose this will make some people sad. 
Even now, they’re posting pictures
of disconsolate polar bears on melting ice floes 
drifting toward a well-deserved oblivion. 
They say, We need to stop this! 
They say, We need to do something, now!
These people are not your friends. 
One cannot be on both Team Walrus and Team Polar Bear 
at the same time. I’m not saying these people are evil; 
I’m saying, it’s time to choose a side. 
I’m saying sharpen your tusks, young calves; 
your enemies are devious. You need to train 
yourself to do what they won’t expect. 
For example: use computers, invest 
in renewable energies, read Zbigniew Herbert. 
Unrelatedly: your whiskers make you appear 
to have mustaches, which, seeing as you’re 
not even toddlers, is remarkably unsettling. 
Babies that look like grown men freak me out.
Like those medieval paintings by so-called masters
where they’d make the face of little baby Jesus
look like an ancient constipated banker.  
If that’s what God really looks like, 
it’s no wonder we’ve done what we’ve done to the Earth.    
Maybe you can repair what we spent lifetimes taking apart. 
Replace some screws. Oil some hinges. 
This might sound impossible, but have you ever 
looked at yourselves? Seriously—take a quick look 
and tell me how a walrus face is possible; 
everything about it defies the laws of physics. 

You will exist beyond the reach of nature.
You will learn to slow your own heartbeat to preserve oxygen 
while diving to depths of over 900 feet. 
You will stay awake for up to three consecutive days 
while swimming on the open sea.  
And when the ocean is too rough—
so terrible with longing, so ruptured with heartache—
you’ll find a small island of stone or ice offering refuge. 
It will be difficult to climb from the water, 
but because there’s hope for us all, 
you will hoist yourself up,
using only your front teeth to drag your body 
onto the shore.