Volume 5, Issue 3: November 2025

What do you remember about humanity?

Primate

I remember humanity’s faith in nature,
how humans prayed with their cattle to lightning strikes,
dropping to the ground in fear and awe,
taking in every glimpse of those explosions of light.

I remember humanity’s love of birds,
often naming themselves after the great flyers,
bowing to them in hopes of a good afterlife,
drawing images of them on their walls.

I remember humanity’s attachment to trees,
praying for their strength and endurance,
climbing them with unparalleled grace.
Who shall love those lonely oaks now?

Bear

I remember humanity eating all manner of fruits,
gifting them to their beloveds at night,
relishing in their colors and tastes,
burying the seeds where they could do so.

I remember humanity’s joining of lovers,
the crowns and robes worn on such occasions,
the hymns and poems recited in jolly voices,
the gifts given from everyone to everyone.

I remember humanity’s many happy women,
their stomachs swollen with beloved offspring,
the respect their men and children had for them,
their being the central poles of their households.

I remember humanity’s babies and children,
swarming the fields like wingless locusts,
more and more every day and year,
until no more of them appeared.

I remember humanity’s thirteen goddesses,
those magnificent statues and carvings
that still cover the landscape they left behind.
Oh Queens, please read this elegy from us!

Cat

I remember humanity’s ships and swimming,
their many barges gliding through the seas and rivers,
the way they took to water like ducks and fish,
the joy of returning to their ancestors’ homeland.

Rabbit

I remember humanity’s joy in eating and drinking,
how they dedicated entire days and weeks to it,
gathering themselves around tables and carpets and chairs,
to feast on all of the world’s provisions.

I remember humanity’s farming of the earth,
their planting seeds and watching crops grow,
how they harvested so fast and so happily,
the yearly cycle of their lives.

I remember humanity’s many celebrations,
their gratitude for everything in existence,
their frequent gatherings and feasts and dances,
their love of existence and its possibilities.

I remember humanity’s use of fire,
their simultaneous love and hatred of it,
how they kept themselves alive and together with its glow,
and also how they kept it in cages for their safety.

I remember humanity’s intercourse at night,
in hidden places under trees and roofs,
or done in caves and tunnels and beds and floors,
until they couldn’t do these things anymore.

Dolphin

I remember humanity’s majestic music,
their lyres and drums and flutes working together
to create sounds that pierced the mind and soul,
causing one to dance and sing with them.

I remember humanity’s many physical games,
how they would jump and twirl through the air,
and how they ran and threw and fought each other,
done to keep their Queens happy.

I remember humanity’s fear of snakes,
creating bows and arrows to defend themselves,
from those scaled, fork-tongued, red-eyed abominations.
But then they became the monster’s heirs.

Kangaroo

I remember humanity’s fear of the world,
arming themselves with bows and knives and swords and spears,
to protect themselves from the shadows surrounding them.
But they could never run from their own darkness.

Horse

I remember how humans would always fight each other,
over the pettiest of reasons, and none at all.
The things they would do during these battles and wars,
I would rather let myself, and the world, forget.

I remember the disease that took the humans,
turning them into purple, screeching monsters.
How humans tried everything to fight off that plague,
but in the end, nothing could save them.

I remember how humans were corrupted by greed and power,
seeking those above all other things, even life itself.
Left with nothing but hate and hypocrisy,
they wouldn’t have survived too long in that state.

I remember humans killing and raping their offspring,
driven mad by false gods and prophets.
You say that we should not discuss such matters here,
but honestly, I will still speak the truth.

Deer

I remember humanity’s love of learning,
the millions of texts they wrote over the years,
their libraries towering over our tallest buildings,
their schools full of eager students and teachers.

I remember the palaces and temples of humanity,
covered in splendid gold and jewels and statues and carvings,
their towering presences in every city and town of theirs,
how they congregated every audience imaginable.

I remember humanity’s spinning of their clothes,
how focused they were with looms and distaffs,
using them to produce every type of covering,
made from every type of material they could use.

Rat

I remember humanity’s constant craftsmanship,
how they toiled away in their forges and sheds,
creating new mixtures of metals to use
in their houses, and tools, and carts, and weapons.

I remember humanity’s love of working with metals,
them going down into the bowels on the Earth
to dig up the ones they knew, and those they didn’t,
their eyes sparkling like their shined fruits of labor.

I remember humanity’s sculptures and carvings,
depicting themselves and every other living being,
in heights from fingernails to soaring palaces,
still standing even with their creators gone.

Raccoon

I remember humanity’s girdles, belts and bras,
paraded around by all who wore them,
given as gifts to lovers and children and Queens,
hung outside their houses as flags of privacy.

I remember humanity’s unparalleled beauty,
the skins ranging from marble to starless night,
their eyes shining with love and life and hope,
their hair all lustrous yellows to blacks.

I remember humanity’s many medicines and surgeries,
all the herbs they used to treat their wounds and diseases,
the cuts and closings returning life and health to them,
but could not return them from the ancestors.

Dog

I remember humanity’s ways of traversing this world,
through walking and running and carts and oxen,
seeking out new lands to settle and people to see,
always hungering for more of this world and its blessings.

I remember humanity’s commerce amongst itself,
trading wood and metal and crops for many objects,
arguing over how much each thing was worth swapping for,
and how agreements were not always reached, or peaceful.

I remember humanity’s elders and leaders,
their patience and wisdom in dealing with others,
how everyone respected their words and presence,
gathering themselves around these fountains of knowledge.

I remember humanity’s close friend, the rooster,
always accompanying it whether it went,
spreading to every corner of the world they inhabited,
wondering when, and if, its master will return.

I remember humanity’s cunning and pride,
their love in surprising themselves in every way possible,
getting things they wanted for less than expected,
spreading those tricks to their tribes and states.

I remember humanity’s desire to fly,
its constant gazing up at the sky and stars,
wondering what it would be like to inhabit them,
and to be able to touch these sources of light.

Pig

I remember humanity’s acting on raised wooden stages,
using masks to transform themselves into other people,
pitching their voices up and down to match emotions,
the clapping and praise they received from their watchers.

I remember humanity’s use of the magicks,
ranging from light to sound to fire to death,
how they spent their whole lives trying to master these arts,
but what use are they to a destroyed race?

Robot

I honestly don’t remember humanity too much,
because she died when I was just a toddler.
But when I hear you others speak of her,
I am glad to have had her as my mother.


featured image graphic by EMILY STEPHENS

Leave a comment

Trending