I Should Have Loved Bigfoot Instead
“I should have loved a thunderbird instead.”
I doubt if Bigfoot held me every dark forest night
for three years, he’d let me go without wild protest.
Maybe what I had with her, real as it seemed,
was only a Yeti, only an Abominable Snowman.
Bigfoot doesn’t hurt people. The rock he tossed
at that hiker was a hoax. I’d let him hex me.
I’d let him vex me in exchange for his furry embrace.
I won’t stop wishing and looking for his prints.
If a Rougarou snuck up on our campsite,
I think Bigfoot would show his claws for me.
He and I will need to find ways to forgive each other,
for who we were and have become, every sundown.
I bet Bigfoot’s the kind of guy who insists
no one goes to bed angry. Let’s get it all out,
I imagine him saying to me in a gentle tenor.
To him, I would be well-worth the lost sleep.
Brett Hanley currently attends the MFA program at McNeese State University and is the Poetry Editor for The McNeese Review. Her poetry is forthcoming or has been published in Crab Creek Review, North American Review, Hotel Amerika, apt, and elsewhere.