HOW TO CRAM CHIMERA INTO SHAPE

when applying pronouns to chimeras

remember that it is just the grotesque amalgamation of parts presented through the eyes of mythology science. nothing applied sticks because reality doesn’t apply to myth.

in other words: it some bullshit.

when you gettin’ ya hair did, it’s all rumor truths and fiction

The Hair and Tantrum be summoning monsters birthed by that stank ho, Mami.

Gurl, did ya hear ‘bout that ho’s children?                                         Mmmhmmm.

Heard she made some ugly nigglets.                                                  Three of ‘em at once.             

Oh for real?                                                                                                    Mmmmm.

Ain’t that lizard-skinned nigga, Tyrees, the daddy?                                         Oooo, he ugly.

heard they got diseases.  heard they all monsters (devils. mmm, gurl). heard one got two different eyes. heard one got snake-skin. heard one got full smile of fangs. one lookin’ like a dog. one got three toes. one breathes fire. one got claws. one a boy. one a girl. one—what’s the other one again?

She musta only had two.                                             Nah, gurl she got three.

You sure?                                Mmm, i seen them with my own eyes.

Gurl,you lyin’. Ain’t no one seen them folks.                          I shit you not.

So what is the third one?                                 Some kinda heshethang

You trippin’.                Nah gurl, i’m for real.

Mmmhmmm.               Mmmmmhmmmm

Mami and her Boo-Children

Mami lived on the outskirts, in a shore shack (or a cave. or a hollow in the earth). she lived with her mother, who a witch. Mami bore the manic print of hallucinogens and the stomach-coil myth of her mother, the boa constrictor who horded chickens.  she was born itty-bitty with the translucent skin. albino fledgling with red-rimmed eyes (angel baby. white girl).

she fell

in love with a monster                     got to’ up

became monster

pussy-lips turned snake-mouth           slippery pink wet stretched like python-hunger, stretched big.

her pussy so loose                               her babies slid right on through.

she birthed a nest of monsters .

nightmare-skinned with fuzz-heads. black eyes with no light.  she gave birth to some ugly nigga triplets—a hound-headed brute and a medusa’s head and a boy (who might be a girl. who might be neither. who might not exist) she gave flesh and brain-matter to imagine these wicked things to being. split her head clean open.

no one has ever seen them. nor has anyone spotted the mother again (death by brain-bust or syphilis). but on smarmy virginia summers, if you squint, there is a wet silhouette of a boa cuddling the fuzzy outline of beasts.

three heads make a circus

Nip had been born with three heads—a subtle genetic altercation that took place in the maw-pit of their mother’s contaminated womb.  three whole heads. the mishap of science— hormones on jezebel-syndrome and some funky chromosomes. a lion fused to her neck, a hyena knotted in her gut and an engorged clit (that if you turned your head sideways and blew into their thigh it’d puff up into a snake head).

it had three heads—a lion with a gorgeous girlish mane (doctors claim it is due to small a dosage of testosterone). hyena with a hunger (ravenous hybrid trying to push loud against the torso). and a snake.

his gran-gran tried to chew and swallow the snake with her arthritic hands. she pinched and pulled and twisted. she beat and brutalized until at age nine Nip kicked her in the chin. he kicked her in the chin and ran off into  some type of blurry nowhere.

headline—a chimera spotted in virginia beach

it’s small unfortunate and reeks of piss and chicken slaughter—people have reported that the creature is about four feet of bite and limbs and two hungry fiendish eyes—we presume that he is a child—wait—some are saying that he might be a ‘she’ —a kindly gentleman looking for the truth has stripped her down to the genitals and it has been revealed that there is a serious lack of balls—wait—a kindly gentle lady has offered to inspect further—from the reports, it would appear the lady has made a thorough interrogation of his or her body and has discovered a rather excited and tender clitoris engorged and fitting to be sucked—wait—he or she has ripped the skin off the kind truth-seekers finger and smashed his or her fists into the nose of the kindly inspector— there is blood everywhere—pure chaos—there is fire coming out of his or her mouth— uncertain if this is metaphor or not—children and adults alike are being spat at— uncertain if there is actual venom—he or she speaks with an unusual raspy lisp—some are calling it chimerical nonsense.

virginia beach is ninety-five percent people- babble looking through watery-smog lens. .

it is found five years after the first sighting shore-slosh snoozing

It is found looking like some kinda damp black shape bone-piled on the mud-sand. It is found looking like some kinda beached monster-mesh with a nappy sand-crusted head. It is found looking like some kinda long-bodied animal. It is found looking like some wet lion dazing, big bulging eyes watching the sticky grey sky pull into the sludge water. It is found looking like it got a full-skull of teeth and a damp snout. It is found with bloody mouth, with skin under its nails, with bruises.  It is found making dirt angels, teeth gnashing on a drowsy smile. It is found growling and yowling at the fire-white sun. It is found with fingers wrapped taut around some doll-looking figure. It is found kissing up a dolls salt-peppered neck. It is found lapping at the doll’s wet cheeks. It is found decorating broken shells across the doll’s naked tummy. It is found trying to scream motion into the doll’s stuck limbs. It is found surviving off the dripping salt-air, off the shapeless sand, off her slow beat.

The Virginia Beach was appalled by the naked and the black.

The Virginia Beach struggled with the snake head poking through its slit and the black.

salon chatter—getting they weave on (part two)

you hear ‘bout nip?                                 who?                                   you know, nip.

who that is?                                             one of Mami’s chil’ren.                               which?

the freaky one.                                         that’s all dem niggas.                                  tru.

so who this nigga is?                               the he-she-thang                              mmmmmm, that one.

heard nip eat itself stupid on that fat hoe’s pussy. heard nip got a pussy-nest for that snake-head. heard nip got a head full on nappy (thick stuff. rough stuff. mmmmmm, i just wanna braid me them sideburns). heard nip lives where the faggots crawl. heard nip got eyes like a cat do. heard nip got smile like hyena do (you mean that ugly thing from lion king?)  heard nip don’t talk. heard nip just silent crawler. heard nip communicates with growl and grunts. heard nip carved a nigga out with its claws. heard he fuck a nigga up if they finna try it. heard she fuck a nigga up if they finna try it.

nip ain’t no man, gurl                                     gurl, nip ain’t no gurl.             what is it?

they somethin’ else.                                 mmmmhmmm.                                mmmmmhmmmm.

The doll and the Chimera—a romance option

Tiny never knew what to make of Nip, but they had been her first kiss. They had been the first touch and scream and fight. They had been the first fuck. They had been the first to cup their hands and capture the period blood when the growing hit. They had been the one to fondle the cramps and sore tits. They soothed the sudden explosion of body and skin and fat. They understood the mini-eruptions. They understood unknown forms and disorientation. Tiny knew them by skin and climax. Tiny knew them by nervous curve and clumsy kissing. Tiny knew them by mangled sleep. Tiny knew them by survival and scatter.

But three heads were hard to pry—

chimera-kid          all snake          and hyena          and lion           part fiction           part false    part real       made no sense        never made no sense               ain’t make full sense        never   past shore-line fumbling and whimsy weed toking                                she gathered them into smoke-smear

Nip be the love she imagined.

The Chimera psyche

Nip thinks girl/Nip thinks boy/Nip thinks none/Nip thinks all at once.

The Chimera Physique

When Nip hit puberty, the growth spurt

made bone hurt                       made stomach twists                       made masculine                  made angles                 made  fatty chest                                                                      made odd rhythms                  made off-beat                      made a nigga angry                                                                 made a nigga cry                       made confusion            made violence                                             made explosive fists                   made  wrong        made raw                   made things unhinge                                       made fragment                        made  static         made noise made horrible                                                                        noise.

who can spot the six feet something of chimera in any type of room

nip held themselves in a way that made people forget they were in the room.

the whole set could be lit. whole street could be stuffed with rumble and holler. whole cement-walk could be people-infested. whole room could be punk-stuffed, ghetto-rough, touched up with dj diss-funct. whole house could be pumped with beach queers, with switch-hippin’ niggas, with boi-gone-gurl-gone-boi, with niggas unwinding skin. whole joint could be quiet-silent-drunk.         and nip just don’t fit.  they stood uncertain. they stood small, let tiny take up space. they stood and hovered. they stood and breathed hot air into the back of tiny’s neck. they stood in dark skin, in raggedy washed-dim clothes, and has never been seen without a beanie (note: if the beanie were to be removed, their lion’s head would fuck with the preconceived imaginary surrounding their slouch walk and in a jazz-snap, the punk-volume of their mane would project a peculiar switch to their hips and a higher octave to her husky talk). they stood, six feet of contained energy and a frame fit for fight—

but who can spot a chimera, if no one has ever seent one before?

nip and the boa constrictor reunite

at age twenty-one, nip went back to the slaughter-shack because tiny kept getting wrapped up in their dreams about boas and chicken beheadings. she kept getting wrapped in the parting of their mouth, the flat line of their teeth, the spook in their eyes. nip unhooked their head, let loose their hold on tiny’s whole and drip-walked across the shore-line.                   the shoreline called them. in the slaughter-shack, chickens hung on the walls to be bled. the blood-bowl where gran-gran did prayer and sacrifice sat waiting to be blessed. gran-gran’s slither had turned to a crawl. she squinted through her glaucoma vision. she could see a blurry line. with a click of her cane, nip becomes three—belly bared, mane out and snake head aching. gran-gran laughed. she bent nip down to meet the dry-line of her lips. she gave the most tender of kisses and then barked another laugh and said:

whole time i thought you dead.

and here you is.

she laughed and kissed the chimera over and over again. the chimera let her, too scared to say no. his snake head hurt.

The chimera and the Doll—a romance option (part two)

Nip holds Tiny together with desperation and forever. Nip sinks into rolls of fat and stretch-marked skin and feels less like a circus. Nip eats her pussy like in the movies. Nip kisses her pussy unlike in the movies.  Nip imprints themselves into the rolling burst of her thighs with teeth. Nip carves a place where her belly droops, nail-prints raw and red and permanent. Nip swims in her burnt-kush scent. Nip mouths at the sounds she shapes. Nip crushes her heavy onto their torso, crushes her heavy into their run-away outline. Nip shapes their arms around her whole heat, around her tender weight—she pours out of their arms but she keeps their hands under the warm beat of her tits. Tiny braids the lion’s mane and tells her she’s pretty. Tiny kisses the hyena’s belly and tells them she will feed them. And when she sucks on the snake-head, she makes it a warm declaration. Nip never feels they make sense— but Tiny do.

CHIMERA

if there isn’t a picture—it didn’t happen.

Beasa Dukes: They are a twenty-one year old, black bi-gendered person. They are currently an English Major and Creative Writing minor at Longwood University. They have published once in the Guide To Kulchur Creative Journal Issue No. 4: LGBTQIA and Two-Spirit Issue. They focus-write and play around with gender, race, sexuality off-pulse spirit stuff, and the body to explore identity.