18 – Feral

If Dad had been alive

he would not have appreciated us.

He had hunted enough in his lifetime.

He knew the scents of wild animals.

He could smell a feral thing like us

and would have picked up on us right away.

He would have been deeply uncomfortable.

We would not have been invited back.

And, he would have blamed it on you, all of it on you

that there was just “something about that guy”

He would never have allowed himself

to know that I was The Beast

that I was the Primordial Monster…

never would have allowed himself to know

or even think it.

If Dad had been alive

I would have gotten a stern talking to

and so would you.

He would have pulled you off to the side

told you to “bathe more regularly, use some deodorant

maybe a little jock powder.”

He was that kind of man. He would have tried to “help ya out there.”

But, it wouldn’t have made a difference

regardless of the spray or powder

shampoo of body wash.

It wasn’t you. It would never be you.


It couldn’t.


A timid fluffy bunny

can not take on the scent of a ravenous wolf.

A frolicking mountain kid

would never musk like prowling jaguar.

It is not in their nature, not part of their dna.


It is not who you were born to be.

No teeth. No claws.

Just a flitting fluffy bunny tail for taunting… taunting…

But we would have known… we did know.


You can’t not know

who has the growl

and who has the soft underbelly.


You can’t not know…


6/27/2020, 8pm

One thought on “18 – Feral

  1. This, like the two other poems of yours I read, is chilling and haunting. You have either been through a lot of s**t or you are simply good at making me believe you have. I love this back and forth between you and your dad through a third party. Your repeated lines effectively serve as a warning, and the way you finish up, “you can’t not know” is the stuff that suspense writers would call GOLD. Kudos!

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