Miss Bay & the Parasite
by Elias Baez
I. Local News (i)
Big Chicken dumped a decade of manure into a bay
from which Baltimore sourced befouled water.
The high-protein, hormonal sludge nurtured a parasite
that would rupture its human host after gestation.
Baltimore claims that when the outbreak began,
it didn’t know the bugs would hatch in our water.
The first infection took place at 5 AM,
in a security guard leaving the water treatment plant.
Residue of the parasite was swabbed from a Dixie Cup
the infected used to sip water with his morning Klonopin.
II. Miss Bay (i)
Miss Bay—(who won the annual Miss City pageant that year,
beating Miss Bridge, Miss Tunnel,
and the ruthless Miss Hospitality)—
was photographed rushing out of a local Denny’s
just after dawn the morning of the outbreak.
Reportedly, she saw something fillip in her coffee.
In all the fluster, she left her blue crab crown behind.
Unfortunately, it has been lost.
Miss Bay was beloved.
III. patient zero (i)
the bug of water grew inside him
like a bellyache
he dreamed he fell through the bay
and breathed the whole way
until he stood on the Chesapeake floor
and there somehow another man
grabbed his head with both hands
and held him there screaming
until the dreamer burst
like a dropped egg
blood in the yolk
IV. anonymous (i)
closed circuit
footage of the first death
spread like a tolling bell
the city moved as if it were dreaming
steering wheels
the texture of radio static
and the ads
so violently beautiful some people cried
V. anonymous (ii)
the dying watched their angels fuck
online, circling to carry them home
like sailors’ dolphins in the ocean
or constellations in the wood
VI. patient zero (ii)
most people were alone
when the dying started:
he planted a chair in his kitchen
to study the faucet’s tap and drip
VII. Miss Bay (ii)
Miss Bay was photographed again sometime later in the day,
walking south on Angel Avenue.
In the photo, her eyes are locked on the pavement.
A vein bulges in her temple
and she is caressing her distending navel.
VIII. anonymous (iii)
nothing was alone
a singularity of satellites listened everywhere
like the star of the nativity
IX. patient zero (iii)
kneeling
on grains of rice
on linoleum
he prayed
to the tap / drip
he begged it
to be a second mother
X. miss bay (i)
miss bay closed her eyes
and thought of underwater
deeper than light goes
she thought where fire goes
when it’s blown out
and as she thought the place she felt it
and when she couldn’t feel herself at all
nothing answered
fire doesn’t blow out
it disperses
the stuff of it changes
with water and sky
and no one could find her where she went
XI. notes(ii)
Big Chicken has never been held responsible for anything. Nor has anyone been prosecuted for the death of Miss Bay.
A city was left to its own destruction by every local, state, and federal government. These same governments cluck when Big Chicken tells them to. Their incompetence is either gross oversight or negligence. Neither answer relieves them of the responsibility to the fact that this was a targeted disaster. Willfully mismanaged emergency responses are meditated acts of violence. Big Chicken should be held liable for what happened to the city and to Miss Bay!
We would like to thank the unbelievable range of participants and co-creators who contributed to this investigation. We are especially grateful to the poets, journalists, locals, and, of course, The Friends of Miss Bay Society.*
*: Full disclosure: The Friends of Miss Bay Society executive produced and single-handedly funded this project.
Elias Baez is a poet and journalist from New York and living in Baltimore. He is the Poetry Editor of GAYLETTER, and his work is indexed online at www.baez.us. Follow him on Twitter @baez_us, and Instagram @baez.us.
