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!