The law nowhere states
That
mercy is a virtue
So
these cubs break no law
But
plenty of bones
Some
instinct, fair or foul,
Keeps
them as a pack,
And
none of them
Get
eaten
Or
so they tell me
Fleeing
parental difficulties
Taking
on whichever form
Gave
best protection
And
access to food
They
left the icelands
And
come to human
Habitations
On
the frontiers
Between
wilderness
And
civilisation
Between
man and myth
They
appeared
Agog
and curious
These
edgelands
Inhabited
by
Pioneers,
plucky whores,
Prospectors
and gamblers,
Trappers
and the already half-mad,
Welcomed
these
Narrow
eyed precise intruders
Recognised
useful skills
To
be used and shared:
Getting
the odds in a fight
Even
before it started,
Finding
things
like
buried bodies,
and
game trails
in
times of scarcity
and
where a man might hide
The
Ace of Spades or Hearts.
Or
his quick and mean-minded
Spitter
of death.
The
musky smell passed unnoticed.
The
girls stuck together
Went
unmolested for a reason.
Miklosh
the tanner, drunk
Grabbed
Dana by the waist,
And
was found the next day
With
his legs all bloodied
And
his privates missing
His
poor bloodied throat,
A
forensic jigsaw puzzle.
Dana’s
dog was blamed,
A
few days passed
And
her brother took over the tannery.
Time
passed
Gossip
said that Mary Turk
Who
took money and rolled tricks
For
all the drunkest and most violent of men,
(Which
took talent and a certain inclination,
It
was whispered in admiration)
Was
smitten with one of this tribe.
She
walked proud with bruises,
And
red welts
Proudly
wearing her love tokens:
Was
hauled in by the sheriff
As
a reluctant civic duty
And
was slapped full in the face.
He
is savage, Mary screamed,
and
you are a tin bucket of lukewarm pisswater.
Thrown
in gaol for that,
She
was freed in the small hours
When
sweet savage lover boy
Had
a chat with the sheriff,
And
then chewed him out.
Took
on the Sheriff’s job,
When
the previous incumbent
Proved
absent,
dead
and
very chewed
No
one crossed this tribe
And
in time
Some
brave folk even mated with them
And
produced more cubs,
Risking
daughters
Or
sons
To
stay on the winning team.
Some
cubs switched
Some
didn’t
Some
were kept in kennels out back
And
treated as one of the family
Which
of course
They
were.
Generations
followed and still do
Beyond
the timespan of this tale
A
male alone or female pack
Is
how they may appear to you.
All
had a look that men and women ,
Not
carrying the blood of Wolf and Queen,
Recognised
instantly,
Though
some ran a mile,
Or
threw sharp and heavy objects,
Some
uselessly blessed,
By
holy men in dresses
Some
ignored what others said
And
took these creatures to their bed,
Some
ignored what other’s said
And
took these wolves to their sweet beds,
Always
extreme, beyond mere fun,
So
dear reader, have you had one ?
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