Throw me to the Wolves

Look how fast the tenth rose

waning for the death throes,

throw me to the wolf

flow throws off too many wolves,

snuggle up with lug guns,

pick your venom ivy violence

rapid nihil-ilist

convinced entropy

waxes to the moon in

silent soliquy

(not soliloquy),

take me ‘cross the river rend,

I’ll make tea to bigger bend,

I lend

another cold rose

to winter’s wolves;

like the pack

I speak necessity,

keepsake eyes

just for brevity,

come down ice

calm down, guys,

petal fall

fetal pall

fatal pallor

are you ready for the

death throes?

***

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