by William Doreski
We learn that giant penguins roamed the seas after dinosaurs petered out. Kumimandu, twice the height, three times the bulk of the emperor penguin, would have savaged the fish-world almost as cruelly as humans have. You peer at the skeletal drawing and realize that many neighbors and friends we encounter downtown are giant penguins adapted to life on land, appetites adjusted to include coffee, bagels, pizza. You note that the beak and stance expose them. Pronged conversations and short legs clever on ice distinguish them from those born fully human and incapable of enjoying long stretches at sea. Many will see this article about fossils in New Zealand and surely some will notice that their beaked friends and neighbors never reveal their torsos because their feathers would give them away. They must be cozy in winter, but summer would be a challenge. We wonder if they’re susceptible to bird flu. Maybe their doctors, alert to their genetic heritage, vaccinate them so thoroughly they can’t endanger the village. Let’s hope so. Don’t mention this article to friends who seem to be giant penguins. They’ve impersonated persons all their lives, so leave them to foster their eggs in peace. ___ William Doreski lives in Peterborough, New Hampshire. He has taught at several colleges and universities. His most recent book of poetry is Dogs Don’t Care (2022). His essays, poetry, fiction, and reviews have appeared in various journals.