IF MY HATE FOR YOU WERE AN ANIMAL
after Jennifer L. Knox
by Nathan Logan

It would have a mouthful of medical waste.

When wet, it would smell like a carton of rotten eggs.

Showing up at your party, it would rub up against the butts of all of the
women as they filled their lovely glasses of wine.

It would slip tarantulas in your robe.

Your saxophone would become a chew toy.

Shrieks somewhere between the sound of a car crash and an orca giving birth
would be your custom welcome home greeting.

Its eyes, red like pomegranates, could shoot lasers right through your head.

It would stare at you while you ate breakfast, with a look like it was
waiting for the perfect moment to stick a fork in your hand.

You could shoot out all four kneecaps, break its knuckles, and cut out its
tongue, yet it would still keep coming.

The thumping sounds of its hooves would keep you up at night, drenched in a
cold sweat, looking out the window and waiting for something to happen.