the alligator

by Elridge Thomas III

An alligator hunts at night. Hatchlings eat fish and insects. An adult can swallow an animal a quarter its size in a single meal. If the kill is larger, the gator hides what remains beneath a log or root.

They wait without moving. They rise without warning. Sometimes they lash their tails and launch five feet from the water to seize a bird from a low branch. When prey is too large to swallow, they drag it under and spin until it comes apart.

They feed in water, so it’s rare to see how they cry when they eat.

I once saw a gator penned behind a gas station near our house. The man who’d trapped him tossed in hog ribs and whole chickens. The gator thrashed and swallowed, hissed deep in his throat. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes and slipped down the ridged hide.

I have wondered since whether he wept from hunger, pleasure, or the chore of living.

Photo of Elridge Thomas III

BIO: Eldridge Thomas III lives and writes in Knoxville, TN, but he's from a swamp in Deep South Georgia. He can be reached at eldridgethomas3@gmail.com.