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Wolves and Wolves
[Portage, January 23, 2010]

Sixteen when I found the town,
A dead one, ridge reclaimed
By nature’s shoots, shucks and pshaws,
Fauna-free back then, just flora
A long half-century ago.
Last summer I found the same place
Overrun by a pack of gray wolves
Ghost town turned wolf-town
An unexpected canid paradise
Devoid of hymeneal angst,
Unexpectlings everywhere.
Twitter, glitter, text talk bitter
Lawyers with sue-trino power, trawling
Bottoms flesh and sea, foes: you, me,
Victims, clients others can’t see
Down there in the pancake of Haiti
Where they consume dead in secret,
Not like here where the cannibals
Stand before the bar in suits
Beating dead horses tender-flat
For the victors convenience
At parties of cock and tail talk
The sound of packs of cock-a-toos,
Cackling at sunrise in sleep trees
Each trying to outshout the other
Telling tales of glorious outcomes
Righteousness without role here
Only outcomes with fees matter:
Turns out wasn’t Haiti pacted
With the devil, but attorneys. 
So help us God. Please?

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