On The Very First Day Of Ever (A Snake's Story)

This pathetic need
of knowing
of hearing and
showing
clearing the air of
the dust long settled
and the wounds long belittled
and the world
that long stopped spinning
of hearing just once the words long awaited:

That my body is my mind
that my mind is my right
and that my right is an anchor
but to that there is no end in sight.

I’ve tried saying this with my words
and my body
and my tears
but you simply don’t want to hear
so I have to cake this in the thickest metaphor I could imagine
reddening the numbers printed in your ledger
so listen,
jesus,
don’t you do anything else?

imagine the day is young
and the sky still has flushed cheeks
fresh from the womb
and it's you and your buddy
in this very real world
and imagine on the first day of ever

and a snake comes around
you scream, but there is no one here to impress
so please shut the fuck up
the snake comes around and you notice its venom
and you turn to your buddy and you tell them
and they agree
and you turn around

Wasn’t that easy?
an easy nice young story
for an easy nice young person
in an easy nice young world.

So, Let me rephrase
because it doesn’t end here

So the snake says to you:
what if your perception is lying and
I’m not venomous at all
what if
it's all about perspective
and, well,
your perspective has been your buddy all day long
so what if, what if, i'm not venomous at all
and they are?
so what then?
are they gonna kill you in your sleep?

And you scoff
but your eyes show fear
and your buddy's show terror
and the snake’s eyes show hope
and you turn to your buddy
and you laugh it off
until you kill them in their sleep
out of terror.

And easy like that the snake fucking won.
wasn’t that easy?
wasn’t that easy to comprehend?
well here’s another:

It’s an easy nice young day
and you’re friends with the snake
and everyone says it’s not venomous
and it hasn’t bitten
(yet, says your buddy)
and it has always been nice you
(so far, says your buddy)
and you make a joke about the snake being venomous
and your stomach is light
but your buddy's eyes sting
and the snake’s eyes show disappointment
and
"ah, i'm just kidding"
you say
to lighten the mood
and on the following day, the snake sits atop the dead body of your friend

what happened to them? you say
i wouldn't know, says the snake, for i am not responsible.
and you turn around.

but, hey, here's another:

on the very last day of ever
your buddy,
alive,
asks you to pick a side
excuse me:
begs you on their knees, wailing, to pick a side
and preferably their side
not the snake's
but you chuckle, say:

i couldn't pick a side if i tried
it's all too complicated, right?
no one's ever truly evil -
not that i'm playing the devil's advocate to anything just
to keep my options open

and that's the last time you hear from your buddy.

and wasn't that easy to comprehend?
good, because it ends here
for the sake of brevity

was that easy enough to get?
because it's the shortest i can break this down to
this
this moral conflict
two dimensional motivations
the two sides
of living and dying
fear and terror
not to be a bit dramatic but
who am i kidding?
you get it now, do you?
my fear of seeing the snake
and its friends
and my fear of hearing the jokes
and my fear of
well, you get it, right?
the fear of being in sight.

first published: 05/2023
place of publishing: THE ART OF TRANSFORMATION, zine by Jack D. Arnold and me