Werewolf.
My cousin Floyd was one.
He would prowl the night spots
When the moon was full.
One minute. Shooting the breeze

Next he would excuse himself to use the facilities and sneak
Out the bathroom window.
Quiet as a weremouse.

They say he was smitten
And bitten by the girl next door she

Was a bit hairy but.that's no reason to
Jump to confusions.

what about the gent in sheep's clothing.

When I was a kid if you were accused of
selling wolf tickets, you had a
poker face while holding a bad hand
Or.
Feeling froggy but having no hops was another
Lycantropic adventure.

Lon Chaney JR.
howled at the moon in black and white

In that case his howl was worse than his bite.
this poem is lacking in teeth.
goodnight.