DaRK PaRTY ReVIEW
::Literate Blather::
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Poem: Werewolf

The disease has me

again.

Spittle rides the screaming

like raindrops on an icy wind.

I tear into the closet like

A rabid dog, foaming.

A loafer

Knocks over the bedroom lamp,

bulb shattering.

Words sharper than claws

Rip her to shreds,

leaving bloody pieces.

Later, hunched down

in the seat,

in the dark,

at the movies,

the gentle husband,

and loving father

returns.

I wonder

Like a silly, little

boy,

Who lies about

cookie jars—

Who is that other
man?

That cruel savage.

Because I know,

I’m certain,

Positive,

he is not

me.


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