The actress with the lizardish face was the first to answer the ad.
They wanted to find someone for me to mate with, as if they would sleep with a random chambermaid. Perhaps they would.
Even flies push themselves to hilltops in search of brides.
Anyway, they were curious about the outcome. They went so far they bet on the percentage of the genes. 80% human, 20% ape?
I was shaking hands with the Japanese B movie star. She warned me I should go along with the plan, she had a four-year-old to keep.
I got hooked on the beads on her necklace, each a snow globe. Cheap. Part. Whole.
She was called Midori, ‘green’ – and indeed, she was wearing an emerald gown. The matching heels were at least two sizes too big. She reminded me of a toddler pretending to be her mum.
Her fingers slipped on my cheeks, brave. She said she had expected rounded rather than pointed ears. A bigger head, all teeth. A grin recurred in her dreams, a pronounced jaw.
She snorted when I walked to the basin, turned the tap on and washed with chamomile & calendula soap.
Our intercourse was supposed to be televised in the interest of science – but suddenly it was all cancelled. My owner got a published apology. I got chocolate ice cream, a watermelon smashing party, and the chance to paint.
Midori gave me a photo with her autograph. She smiled at me, ravenous and tame.
Agnes Marton is a poet, writer, Reviews Editor of The Ofi Press, founding member of Phoneme Media, Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts. Recent publications include ‘Estuary: A Confluence of Art and Poetry’ (winning the Saboteur Award) and her poetry collection ‘Captain Fly’s Bucket List.’ She has participated in an expedition to the Arctic Circle.