I was raised by wolves
In pink gowns
Meant to stand on town-legs, I lurk
Across a moor
A swinging head
left to right
I spot a jackrabbit
And know exactly what to do
I was raised by wolves in pink gowns
I rustle up grub
I howl at the moon
next to my mother, Her fur tinged
with lunar lights
Bristling about her neck
Starting, the day I was littered
The twenty day of the eleventh twelfth
Thirty nine wolf years
Still a cub
in my mother’s pouch
watching
learning
raised by wolves
She prowls around town
Shoves me into the street
From behind a dumpster
Corners small prey
Lets drool hang from her lips
Shows me how it’s done
Shows me how to be...
irreconcilable
Part wolf
Part man
Part son
Part cub
raised by wolves
wolves in pink gowns
