The museum opened its doors
to torrents of water. Staff
can't make it to the doors. Staff
can't shut and haven't been
able to shut in three days. More
than two dozen taxidermy birds
have fled to higher floors. They
didn't care their wings were plastic.
They cared that wings became the air
for three days, before they reached
the top floor. A caveman watches.
A caveman hopes his swimming lessons
from third grade will be of any help. He's
heard rumors that the water reached floor
ten. He's heard rumors of mammoths
sleeping in the belly of a sunken ship.
They've found their bubble of plastic
wings. They've learned to count each
panel of wood at night. Hope they never
find one missing. Mammoths take berry seeds,
chew them like tobacco. Took up smoking
until they ran out of paper for rolls. Mammoths
started peeling splinters from the ship
and pulping them into cigarette rolls.
The mammoths ran out of air before
wood, before water could kill them.