Walk It Off Bear &
A Bear Had Committed Suicide

by W.B. Keckler

Walk It Off Bear

Walk It Off Bear was a great walker. He walked to the Moon and back several times in his lifetime. Walk It Off Bear took photographs of many less fortunate bears. Some of the poorest bears who appeared in these photographs became bear icons. Alas, these bear icons did not profit from the use of their images. They remained extremely poor bears. But at least these poor bears could go to one of the better bear museums and see themselves hanging on the wall. They could stand near their photograph and hope that one of the cultured bears circulating in that chamber of the bear museum would recognize them. But even if the cultured bears recognized the less fortunate bear, they would not really be all that interested. They were only interested in bear art, in representations of bears and not bears themselves. This was the sign of an advanced bear mind. If that room in the bear museum caught on fire, they would save Walk It Off Bear's photo of the unfortunate bear before they would rescue the unfortunate bear itself standing next to its image and screaming at the sight of the advancing flames. The cultured bears might say "Excuse me" while pushing the unfortunate bear out of the way. To rescue the bear photograph. But that would be as good as it would get. Most cultured bears fall in love with images not bears. It's so obvious it's like putting a straw in a milkshake. And cultured bears love straws. They stick straws in things all day and night. They want you to see how they have mastered the art of the straw—even with those big clumsy paws of theirs. They have had plastic surgery on their paws to give them opposable thumbs. They have their fur waxed off. Their naked bear hands are horrific to look at. And there is always a straw in their deformed paws. Because otherwise how would you know? You won't find a cultured bear without a straw. Really you won't. A cultured bear without a straw is like a goon without his ridiculous tears.

A Bear Had Committed Suicide

A bear had commited suicide. Some bears threw salt over their shoulders while fucking stranger bears. Some bears wept and gnashed their sharp teeth. Some bears took out photographs of bear vacations and smiled. Some bears wandered through sunflowers in their yards and touched every single flower. Some bears drank the rot of flowers from sexily shaped bottles and giggled.

The bear dance away from the dead bear had begun. All bears knew they must dance as quickly and sexily as they could away from the dead bear body. Especially those who had slept with the bear. They were the most manic dancers.

That dead bear was now away from itself. The dead bear had clearly been dissolved by something. Probably nature's explanations. But now nature's explanations were over. And there was only nature. Bears began dancing furiously in the night. Against the idea of explanation. Which is not a bear idea.


W.B. Keckler's published books include Sanskrit of the Body and Recombinant Image Day. Recent writing has appeared in Coconut and Mipoesias. His short piece, "Neither Measure Nor Mode," appeared in Issue #11 of The Cafe Irreal and "Butterflies" appeared in Issue #14.