Wake up, Megalon! Destroy our enemies! Rise up! And Megalon does: it rises to the surface and just as inevitably, is beaten back down by better monsters. Godzilla movies can be cyclical this way—a rise, a fall, a hint of rising again. The wheel turns. At my grandparents’ house growing up, an evening treat was to watch TV. We sprawled on the worn green carpet, orange soda in plastic cups and pretzels on plates, and shouted answers back at the screen as we caught the end of Wheel of Fortune. Letters were revealed one by one as contestants spun the card-studded wheel—I always felt so foolish when I didn’t guess the phrase. So much flash and sparkle along with the challenge, like Megalon’s starry horn. So much to marvel at. Someone always has to lose in these shows. I always wondered what happened if you won—if the monsters in Godzilla movies won—how that would change everything, everything.
Gretchen Rockwell is a queer poet who can frequently be found writing about gender, science, space, and unusual connections. Xe is the author of the chapbooks body in motion (perhappened press) and Lexicon of Future Selves (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press) and two microchapbooks; xer work has appeared in AGNI, Cotton Xenomorph, Whale Road Review, Palette Poetry, and elsewhere. Find xer at www.gretchenrockwell.com or on Twitter at @daft_rockwell.
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