the Wolf Man moves to Los Angeles

it feels different with palm trees

in the background

dear Padre, Father, or dada as you will

“It's all make-believe isn't it?"

still we choreographed something

a requiem, the modernist thirst

for myth I became my own obituary

now I attribute my problems to dehydration

it’s a way of becoming local

looking for someone

else’s words to make the moon self-aware

I met a wolf girl we bought a ranch

a joint venture in real estate real feral I'm afraid    

her innocence is not genuine

the way it shines!