by Michael Estabrook
Gigantophithecus gardarensis
Better known as Beowulf’s monster
descended directly from Cain
the very first murderer in recorded human history
I was not a Dragon a Werewolf a Wildman or a Griffin
not a Monocerus Manticore Minotaur or
the Malebranche Demon but instead
a simple giant humanoid creature
more hairy and smelly much stronger
more hideous and fearsome
than you could imagine in your wildest nightmares
twice as big as the biggest Bigfoot
(oh they exist don’t be fooled by the lack of evidence
I should know they are distant cousins).
Dark Age humans were easy pickings indeed
all huddled trembling
in their flimsy meadhalls and longhouses
their Fachhallenhausen and Frisian farmsteads
sturdy secure timber structures my ass
all I had do was crack in
the front door watch them staring agog
then scattering like broken twigs
a few brave ones poking at me with pikes
or pick axes until I’d snatch up a couple for dinner
and be on my way back to my den.
The whole system worked fine and so much fun
until fuckhead Beowulf showed up
playing the hero tearing off
my arm first and then … well you know.
Are there more of me lurking still
in the darkest shadows of the deepest forests?
Well I can’t tell you that directly I’m sworn to secrecy
but there have been sightings there have been reports
everything skulking about out there can’t be
Bigfoots now can they?
Michael Estabrook has been publishing his poetry in the small press since the 1980s. He has published over 20 collections, a recent one being The Poet’s Curse, A Miscellany (The Poetry Box, 2019).
