‘Carnivore’ by Gary Hanna

When I wear underpants
I am a creature of nature
shackled in chains, dutiful
to a tee, a changeling trained
to perform like a robot,
constrained in the perfunctory
use of time and desire.
I take the sun in preppy
Bermuda shorts, look my best
in a business suit, dandle
children on my knee, never
teach them to hunt or run free,
always obey, never wade
in the stream, bind them
to desks, teach them to learn
from books and older members
of their kind, do all the things
expected of dad. But underneath,
I wake in the night, long for
the woods, howl at the moon,
yearn for the chase and the cave.

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