deepundergroundpoetry.com
Escaping this
I like to think that I am a wolf.
I am a wolf, I am poetry...
A lush forest,
home to all songbirds and everything
not human.
I wander the lonesome tundra whenever I am bored
I run for miles and sing wolfish howls
I escape in webs of words... do they even mean anything at all..?
All this is me, lost on the evergreen paths,
amongst creeks and small waterfalls...
But no. I'm dreaming... always.
In reality...
Im walking down a shitty street
The air reeks of gasoline and broken dreams
I'm no wolf, I'm human
and the only worthwhile thing in me is the sacred feminine,
a force of oceans, that same wilderness I dream of...
and even that, is raped and taken away
Every time I pass a burning breath that reeks of booze,
or a soul slum with a pair of leech-like eyes.
I am an object... I walk the street. I live.
No... no.
Wolf. A lone wolf...
and someday I'll find my pack,
Someone who will run with me
through the tall dewy grass in the morning blue light
Someday.
Published 26th Mar 2025
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