Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen

The Sloth

In Prose on June 10, 2015 at 6:00 pm

sloth

I am irate. I have feet and claws. What do you mean I can’t walk fast? You idiots just zip on by here in the jungle. Like what’s the hurry? Do you think getting it done fast means getting it done better? And what’s with the staring, like you’ve never seen a bipodal furry mammal in the jungle before. These claws can shred your face, cleanly, slowly I killed a vulture with these claws once. And what’s with these vultures? They even have a stupid recipe: Catch a sloth out of a tree Peck it to death Mix it with dead fish and insects And then a whole bunch of them flying creeps Swarm and eat Do I look edible? I just take my time hanging around on the trees I like those nice sweet flowery fruits I don’t like those eco-tourists, though Their light boxes are too bright, too sudden I just show them my fur and crawl to the next branch. Sometimes me and my girl just like hanging together so she says I smell bad, so I dropped into the river and my fur gets wet – and I notice these small fish with white teeth like my claws. About 20 of them start biting – and I swat them off- but those damn fish took some of my fur off. My girl starts laughing until I tell her to drop into the river too – maybe those damn fish will polish her claws. So much for getting wet, let me swing out of here.

-Thomas Clarke

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