Illustration by Kaavya Gnanam
PARA YAHYA HASSAN
THE WHOLE SAFARI SCREAMED AND MOANED.
FRIGHTENED TO THEIR BONES. MEN AND WOMEN ALIKE.
NOT FROM HIS TERRIFYING WARNING ROAR.
NOT FROM HIS HUMAN-TEARING FANGS. NO.
THEY WERE AFRAID BECAUSE:
HOW COULD SUCH A MENACING MONSTER HAVE PINK CLAWS?
NOBODY ASKED HOW HE HAD GOTTEN THE PINK CLAWS.
NOBODY ASKED WHY THERE WAS NAIL POLISH DEEP IN THE JUNGLE. NO.
THEY ASKED:
WHY WOULD SUCH A MENACING MONSTER HAVE PINK CLAWS?
AMONGST THE SQUEALS THE ORDER CAME WITH NO HESITATION.
THE SOUND OF THUNDER.
AS SOON AS HIS BODY HIT THE GROUND THE CONFLICT STARTED.
THE COUPLE FROM CALIFORNIA WANTED THE FUR. FOR THEIR NEW HOUSE.
THE COUPLE FROM VERMONT WANTED THE EYES. FOR THEIR BIZARRE
COLLECTIONS.
THE GUIDE WANTED THE FANGS. TO HAVE SOMETHING. (HE GUESSED.)
THE ENVIRONMENTALIST WANTED THE CLAWS. TO SHOW HER FRIENDS.
WHEN ONLY THE GUTS WERE LEFT, AN OLD WHITE WOMAN SAID:
GIVE THEM TO THE indios. SO THEY CAN MAKE SOUP. OR WHATEVER IT IS THEY
DO.
THE NATIVES GAVE THE BLACK JAGUAR A PROPER BURIAL.
UNLIKE THE SAVAGES IN THE SAFARI.
Andres F. Arevalo Zea (he/him) is a Colombian sophomore studying creative writing & computer science at CC '26. He was the recipient of the Academy of American Poets Prize for Tufts University last spring and is a staff writer for the Arts & Culture section of the Columbia Spectator. You can find him on Instagram @andresarevalo2205.