Wolves

Wolves
by Cody Clarke

The moon is full and baring down on me
though I can't see it

The clouds are thick as porridge
protecting me as best they can
but I still feel the moon like a magnet
repelling me into the dirt

I can feel the hate and disappointment in my
sinuses and forehead
like my third eye is rotting

and all my work
everything I've done either creatively or for money
is droplets of blood on toilet paper

I wish these feelings were memories
and not my current state of mind

I'm not writing this from the past
and I'm certainly not writing it from the future

I'm writing this in the ever-changing present
waiting the eternity between this night
and tomorrow morning
when I'll feel a little better

and put my nose to the grindstone
and serve the universe amidst wolves

Even in prison there are still wolves
and even in solitary confinement there are still wolves

so you might as well let them have at you some nights