.Werewolf at a Funeral.
There sits the werewolf at the funeral
Sixteen-dollar haircut, adorning shined coats
Teeth sharp, gleaming peaks a sore thumb among the damsels
Whom the man in the ivory box had known like nefarious drugs
The wolf’s wife being his most deadly addictionAnd the preacher goes on
As white teeth carve a white crescent moon
Through a full-fanged smile
Note: My absence is due to the lack of a working computer. I have not given up on In Cities. Expect a few more short snippets soon.
In Cities 