almost like almost
. . . . . . . he said
in land there is a line around a wolf
within is other and awe
social grace packed
who wills foul and unrest
. . . . . . . when the chaste self ills
the line extends
skin
to no where inside
rhythmic
it wasn’t me
but this becoming will not
already
listen
sing song sing song
today the howls are human and
the wind outside is ashamed
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .sing
a leap o a leap o
again and and again oblivion
a cub relatively calmly
. . . . . . . casts abroad
a final vowl
looking oblivion
as it hammers
the sick hells
inside us
and all we can do is moan our own
cull
how flat can flesh be flattened and still be flesh
into tomorrow
innascent
who
wants to live forever
we do
no matter
what
Image credit: Nadege Meriau, Untitled (Chasing Wolves), Finland, 2003
www.nadegemeriau.com
Part of The Learned Pig’s Wolf Crossing editorial season, spring/summer 2017.
