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in the fold

As I run silently along rooftops, Bare feet carrying me swiftly through the Washingtonian night, I cannot recognize the sound ‘Marco’, for then it is as meaningless to me as all other Man-sounds; On Nights like these I am reborn, and I have been saved! There is nothing to lose and everything to gain, for what is living when I am owned by possessions? by reputation? I am Dangerous; everyone is when they begin to realize what they are capable of, and what this world really is; a fold, filled with sweet sheep and rabbits who are slowly being slaughtered. (all I do is speed them along, it’s a mercy really.) Upon my fur falls that Olympic nectar rain O, the Rain! To mask my scent and make it a Perfect hunt! I am wild, I am free, and I am in the fold; Some dip shit shepherd Has let down his guard, and for this he will pay in flesh. The night is alive with sounds, fast sounds, Wind through Douglas Firs, the hiss of a bus. Sliding down shadowed ladders and through locked doors I am taken, and all around me I see Prey. They have never seen a predatory creature before, and they do not shy away at my approach. I give a Wolfish grin and shake their hands as they let me in, and in my shining eyes is glee and Murder. You’d better run, rabbit run cause here I come to knock down the door and set you

Free

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About marcofreschi

I live in the Ocean and write poetry View all posts by marcofreschi

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