The Elephant Seal

There’s an enormous elephant seal rotting in the town square. I don’t know how it got there, considering we’re at least two hundred miles from the ocean. It stinks to high heaven, but nobody seems to be bothered by it. Many of the local children have been using its bloated body as a playground, leaping up and down on its hulking blubber. A romantic couple daydreamed while reclining on its hind flippers. An old man brushed his thinning hair in the faded reflection of the seal’s eyes. I even saw the girl who works at the bookstore sensually nuzzling its proboscis the other night at sunset. “What’s all the fuss?” I said to another man watching the girl blush as she brought its bulbous trunk to her lips. “Don’t you know anything?” said the man. “This town was founded by elephant seals almost three hundred years ago. In fact, tomorrow is the anniversary of that very day.” “I’m sorry,” I said. “I had no idea. I’ve only lived here for a few months.” The next day, I attended the founding celebration. Everyone was writing their names on pieces of paper and placing them in a wooden box for a raffle. There was live music, vendors, games, and a tremendous commemoration unlike any I had ever witnessed. Partway through, the mayor tapped the microphone and announced the winner. “Davis Hunt,” he said. “Oh my,” I said. “That’s me.” I walked toward the front as people patted my back and congratulated me. Some of the women were even crying and kissed me. When I reached the front, two burly men grabbed me and forcibly inserted me into the elephant seal’s mouth. I screamed and hollered, but everyone just applauded, whistled, and shouted for joy. Once inside, everything was pitch black. It smelled strangely like a pine forest. I couldn’t make heads or tails of the beast, so I crawled and crawled, through the slop of cartilage and organs, slicing my hands and knees on splintered bone. I pressed on for hours, maybe even days or weeks, and I had no real sense of time and place. At one point, I thought I heard wolves in the distance fighting over a kill, children crying, screaming men and women, trees collapsing, gunfire, and even dynamite. Eventually, I found an opening. I pulled myself out of the elephant seal and lay breathless on the ground. When I looked up, a giant man was standing over me. I quickly rose to my feet and backed away from him. Then he squatted down to his hands and knees and said, “Come.” I looked at him and then got down on my hands and knees. “No, no,” he said, gesturing for me to rise. “Come,” he said, patting his back with his hand. Tentatively, I walked over to him, straddled his back, and grabbed hold of his torn sweater. He began trotting along in the darkness. “Hold on,” he said, building to a canter. “Where are you taking me?” I said. “Hush now,” he said in a full gallop. “We have much ground to cover before sunrise.”

Joseph Cooper is the author of several collections including, most recently, Splash Fields (VA Press, 2024), the chapbook Flaming June (Bottlecap Press, 2025), and The Thief of Mars (Carbonation Press, 2025). His work has appeared in numerous journals including Ambidextrous Bloodhound Review, Assignment Literary Review, Nat1 Publishing, Oddball Magazine, One Art: A Journal of Poetry, Scud, Tough Poets, and DMQ Review which nominated his poem "The Nose" for a Best of the Net Award and a Pushcart Prize. He lives in Lewisburg, WV.