The wolf is an industrial complex.

I am girl.  I wear a red coat.


I am wolf.  Naked.  


I’m lurking in the woods and I will eat myself, whole.

I am a now-and-then being.

I run wild and feel terror.

I’m oil, weapon, waste.

I’m feasting my eyes and I’ll swallow us.

I’m wolf, teeth and claws.

A hopeless cause, dependent.

A lifelong sentence, this dreadful vigil, waiting for the woodcutter to open me up or

pull me out, whole.

Why, what big eyes you’ve got.


3 thoughts on “The wolf is an industrial complex.

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