See the owl in swift silent flight,
Surfing the darkness of the night,
In control of its black domain,
Its prey killed quick, no time for pain.

Don’t be outraged when its victim dies;
The owl’s not a mugger of the skies,
No malice shown when it hunts for meat,
It leaves alone what it cannot eat!

You may never have stood and looked down the sight
At the tommy buck out in the breeze
With the barrel on the side of the truck
As your father says, "Gently now, squeeze."

You may never have felt the kick of the ****,
Then heard the report with a crack,
Or seen the buck just scatter away,
Leaping this way and that.

You may never have smelt the smell of the air
After a fire on the plain
When fresh grass shoots are pushing through
With mushrooms, after the rain.

You may never have heard the kru kroo of a dove
When at dusk to its mate it is calling,
As shadows are lengthening out to the east
And the African night is falling.

You may never have felt the pump of your heart
As you slam the truck cab door
Then lurch on the seat as you cross the plain
To the prey when you're only four.

You may never have ridden with game in the back
As rain clouds blacken the sky,
Or heard the clank of the tail-gate chains
And, never again shall I!

A dog is wild like a wolf at dawn.
While the cat is wild like a lion in day.
A dog rules the night and the moon.
The cat empowers the sun.

Dogs are fearless.
Cats are fierce.
If a dog were to fight a cat.
Like a gun to a bear.

Who would have won?
A dog is merely a cat.
As a cat is merely a dog.

a covey small tan and brown feathered avian sprites
in brittle grass on desiccated hills hidden in plain sight
perching still as death will my close presence them excite
do they sense the ending that will mark their panicked fright?
I'll move they'll billow forth in the vagaries of flight
fluttering trajectory will intersect my sights
wild beauty convoluted billowing feathers ignite
ending in a tumbling stumbling failure of their flight
their camouflage plumage flecked with stains of crimson light
do they regret never seeing their progeny's delight?
do they feel a longing for more than is their right?
they will provide a meal for my family tonight

The hunter’s bullet lodges in my side
like the pin bones of salmon wedged
in the back of my throat.

My life balances on the border
between my favorite comfort foods,
and the blade of the taxidermist.

You would make me into a trophy,
gutted and cured to become an ornament,
in your seasonal hunting cabin.

Raw honeycomb, Caribou marrow,
salmon roe stuck to my tongue,
psalms of my home made flesh,

call me back into my survival
instincts for my sleeping children.

She who outruns deer & devours
strong bucks with antlers the size of sequoias
could not outrun the champion sprinter,

American made bullets.

But when you realize your rumpus
disturbed wild things, there is no time to reload.
You brought a potluck into the den
of a slumbering mother with cubs.

My teeth are agonizingly real
And my jaws are in your belly,
rooting for the lost rib of Adam.

The leopard ...
shining so brightly
as one of the earth's
truly
most truly ...
utterly beautiful
animal
creatures,

which here we see
held aloft,
stone dead,
after being hunted
by two of
the earth's
bravest ...
oh so brave
human beings,
the mighty ...
oh so mighty,
Trump
sons,

here smiling
& self-satisfied,
holding the body
for a picture,
this once living
breathing
& utterly
beautiful
creature,

Take me down to the river
Wash these knots out of my stomach
I need to run
Free
Clear my head
I make myself hard
I make myself sharp
I'm ready to fight
Until they slow down
Almost to a stop
Slowing down right by me
& in this moment
I realise
I am not fearless
Indestructible
Fast.
I am alone
Past mightnight
Prey
To be hunted
Devoured
Disposed
Not hard
But soft
And slow
- I just wanted to run
& now I'll get my chance.
Should have worn a hoodie.
10% cotton
90% asking for it