Wolves at War


My words are all gone
dried up somewhere between hates
and tossed Molotovs

shaken and well stirred
by a well-chilled media
looking to give thrills

like a bad boyfriend
entertained by my sorrow—
relishing my tears.

Here my words are lodged
like a stone lump in my throat...
too big to swallow.

I want to run but
the headlights sting my eyes blind—
now I just see dark.

If I could just find
the words that would build a bridge
we could all end this.

The shrill sirens howl…
the lament of wolves at war...
that nobody wins.