A wolf prowls amongst the ruins of concrete and glass
An appetite for the elderly, for the easy, for the edible,
Causes his stomach to growl for the emptiness,
of the stomach,
of the wilds overtaken by clumsy men and women,
of the structure, where people matter not,
relentless, needing not to be graceful
but there is poise, and
always something fiercely
poetic in the ****.

Even the weakest
is reason,
for a seasoned
hunter
to howl
after words.