The Wolves are at the Door and All I Have to Wear is This Sheepskin Jacket


Karl Koweski

Originally published in The Evergreen Review Issue 123 in June, 2010.

you’re not obligated to tell me anything
I’m not your husband
frankly, I pity the son of a bitch
ensconced in suspicions and half truths
emasculated by years
of worry and questions unanswered.
no wonder he’s a fucking alcoholic

I’ve listened to your stories
dope and wine fueled orgies
grinding pussies with a friend
while he ex with the 
genital herpes “watches”

voice sleazy
with the glee of seediness

and I’m not impressed

I could make Aleister Crowley blush 
with the sex magick I weave

when you talk of innocently meeting
your husband’s buddy for drinks
forgetting what you’ve told me
of your past affair together
my ego is insulted
only because you think 
I’m too ignorant to make 
the obvious connections

this is the tune you’re calling
and I can dance it
better than anyone
and I always have partners
waiting for the spotlight
of my attention
maybe they’ll never match my steps
the way you matched my steps
but it’s the dance that matters,

you never should have 
told me you love me
no matter how badly 
I needed to hear it
at the time
I believed you
I was too ignorant to make 
the obvious connections

you wanted a wolf
but I lied to you

I only cast 
the shadow of a wolf

in the end
its always my blood
sheathing the fangs