Predators

By Laura Grace Weldon

If a grizzly wanders into your social media
don’t make eye contact or sudden moves.
Abandon the sandwich you were eating, leave
the small square of chocolate you saved for last.

Sharks often appear in parking garages
silent, stealthy, even as you confine
your blood’s scent under a coat pulled tight,
hurry your steps, summon your car’s refuge.

You’re warned away from boa constrictors
although their natural habitat is your manager’s office,
the statehouse, every tightly coiled corporation
crushing you bit by bit.

Predators often smile, extend a hand, act polite.
Beware, the trap may be ready to snap.
Expect the hurt, the trick, the vicious threat,
the unholy fury when you try to walk away.

Laura Grace Weldon served as Ohio’s 2019 Poet of the Year and is the author of four books. She works as a book editor, teaches writing workshops, and maxes out her library card each week. Connect with her at lauragraceweldon.com.

Illustration credit: 1906 illustration of a corporate predator from Arena Magazine, Volume 35, in the public domain.

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