Growing Up Canine

Cherry

By agnosticnun

Thu, 07 Aug 2014
  • 2906 reads
9 comments
 

It is not that I was raised by wolves -
my parents yipped and fought like humans do.
But still I grew half-feral.

In the basement broken chairs were a thicket.
My brother and I rolled muddy as puppies.
We ate mustard sandwiches for dinner.

On the playground, laughter assaulted me.
Hiding behind matted hair,
I snarled back. Foxes aren't lonely.

High school brought subtlety:
sex, calculus, exclusion.
I did not understand lip gloss.

Wolves may den together.
A girl-bitch will scavenge love
like a coyote scenting offal.

Certificate U
Poem
Family Histories

Comments

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

Full of bite.  Wonderful.

Submitted by agnosticnun on

Thank you, Phillip!

Kristi

Submitted by Bee on

This is brilliant !

Bee

Submitted by agnosticnun on

Thanks, Bee! From you that means a lot.

Kristi

Submitted by lenchenelf on

... really like the subtext of narrative, a pride in being. 

Good stuff

Lena xx

 

Submitted by agnosticnun on

Lena, am glad you caught that. I wasn't sure it had quite made it in.

Kristi

Submitted by blackjack-davey on

I like the domestic interior gone wild, furniture as forests-- the inability to handle lip gloss. I am interested in those russian wolf children but what I like most is, despite the feral leanings, what this wolverine is hunting down and sniffing out with such savagery are scraps of kindness, can they really be better than red meat?

 

Submitted by agnosticnun on

Glad you liked it.. I've always been fascinated by stories of feral children too. As for red meant - good question.

Kristi

Submitted by whyshewrote on

Wow! I can see why this was cherrypicked. "Foxes aren't lonely", my favorite line!