Wolves in the Woods, or, Queer Creatures
There’s a wolf in the woods, the old people said.
More than one, every year, there’s a wolf in the woods.
She’ll eat you, he’ll break you, they’ll get up inside you
And tear your pink insides by the light of the moon.
Some young people, curious, frolicked with wolves
And danced with the shape-shifted friends they had known
Wearing skins more their own than pink flesh ever was
And pretended, come morning, they’d never left home.
There’s a wolf in the woods, the new old people said
Who once had run till the thorns tore their feet
Their memories warped to recall rapid chases
Instead of a frolick leaving mud on their sheets.
Every year there were children who never came home
Who’s clothes found abandoned would be mourned aloud
Who’s parents could not understand what was done
And rallied a ravenous crowd.
“We’ll kill them, we’ll kill them.” Each year it was said
And as was predicted they’d all leave their homes
And left, all at once, and they always assumed
They got every beast with blade and with stone.
But there always, forever, are wolves in the woods.
Children learning the ways of tooth and of claw
Growing up and away from their stringent old roles
Who would rather be beast with blood on their maw.
There will always be people who are not like you
There will always be us, and we will terrify
We will run and be wild under stars, chase the wind
We will be anything, and forever defy
No one can take the wolf from a child
That found themselves othered each day of their life
They’ll eat you up whole and spread their great joy
Of teeth and of claws as sharp as your knife.
Your children are better off wolves in the woods
You should learn to find love in their howling
Take a walk and see the joy in their eyes
And join us in glorious calling.
janainaart
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