John Sara
Skunk Ape Ekphrasis
Because even monsters are startled
by the camera’s flash; baring teeth and grinning.
The kind of smile that says no one will ever believe you,
and you’re not sure you believe it yourself.
Let’s say you were in the wrong place
at the right time and that the ape shouldn’t
have been there either—
but maybe the unknown itself gets curious,
wanders into the brush just to prove it can.
You told everyone its eyes were like headlights,
but now you see in them an old family photograph;
eyes red from exposure
as though haunted by the camera,
wanting to be anywhere but here,
to say to the photographer, I curse you
with the scent of Earth in your nostrils.
Sour now from where I once stood.
John Sara is a writer from Parma, Ohio. He received his MFA in Creative Writing from Ashland University, where he works as an adjunct professor and lead fiction editor for the student-run literary journal The Black Fork Review. His work has been featured or is forthcoming in such places as Prairie Margins, Paper Dragon, Blood+Honey, Schlock! Webzine, and Cul-de-sac of Blood. You can follow him on Instagram @darkbat616.
Banner Art:
One of two photographs received anonymously by
the Sarasota Country Sheriff’s Office in 2000
depicting the so-called ‘Myakka Skunk Ape’
