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Countdown to Caplin Day: 3

Melanie’s Post:

Just how wonderful are capybaras? Yes, they should be on the cover of National Geographic Magazine. That goes without saying.But how much more wonderful is a capybara than you are? Or do you imagine yourself to be the more wonderful? Before you answer that, you should read this poem.

Unit of Measure 

All can be measured by the standard of the capybara.
Everyone is lesser than or greater than the capybara.
Everything is taller or shorter than the capybara.
Everything is mistaken for a Brazilian dance craze 
more or less frequently than the capybara.
Everyone eats greater or fewer watermelons 
than the capybara. Everyone eats more or less bark.
Everyone barks more than or less than the capybara, 
who also whistles, clicks, grunts, and emits what is known 
as his alarm squeal. Everyone is more or less alarmed 
than a capybara, who—because his back legs 
are longer than his front legs—feels like
he is going downhill at all times.
Everyone is more or less a master of grasses
than the capybara. Or going by the scientific name,
more or less Hydrochoerus hydrochaeris
or, going by the Greek translation, more or less
water hogEveryone is more or less 
of a fish than the capybara, defined as the outermost realm 
of fishdom by the 16th-century Catholic Church.
Everyone is eaten more or less often for Lent than
the capybara. Shredded, spiced, and served over plantains, 
everything tastes more or less like pork 
than the capybara. Before you decide that you are
greater than or lesser than a capybara, consider 
that while the Brazilian capybara breeds only once a year,
the Venezuelan variety mates continuously. 
Consider the last time you mated continuously.
Consider the year of your childhood when you had 
exactly as many teeth as the capybara—
twenty—and all yours fell out, and all his 
kept growing. Consider how his skin stretches
in only one direction. Accept that you are stretchier
than the capybara. Accept that you have foolishly
distributed your eyes, ears, and nostrils 
all over your face. Accept that now you will never be able
to sleep underwater. Accept that the fish 
will never gather to your capybara body offering
their soft, finned love. One of us, they say, one of us,
but they will not say it to you.

 

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