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The Parable of the Intoxicated Lycanthrope

I walked beside the caravan
eyes watching dust rape
shoes

I dance amongst the white worms
while the others sleep cruel

To awake cask uncorked, barrel dry
every day,
I can’t believe they continue allowing me to volunteer
for Sentry duty at night-
or
how
they blindly
accept my explanations-
as if werewolves have need for alcohol
when a prairie of flesh awaits my
carnivorous call

 

 

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About hobgoblin2011

I'm a poet and aspiring screenwriter/songwriter with a passion for film, art, photography, philosophy and heavy metal. I love reading, mainly non-fiction, comic books, graphic novels, myth and reference. Family always comes first for me. I'm a proud father to two wonderful pups and two curious cats. I'm also a glutton for punishment aka the life of being a diehard Buffalo Bills and Sabres fan.

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