wolf hunting

"who would want to hunt a wolf?" you ask 

& i say "no one of course."

at night i set a chair by the window

& i recite all the methods for hunting a wolf

like a prayer. 

1) blind: a husk of skin where the hunter crouches. 
the corpse of a leather stone. camouflage everything 
but the eyes. i make one by peeling back the wallpaper
& crawling inside. i wait. 

2) calling: imitating the wolf's howl. i find the sound
deep at the bottom of my throat, a well strangled mouth,
i grow canine teeth just to yank them out. spit the blood.
keep howling. a mouth of amethyst: jagged & bone.

3) fladry: encircling the wolf pack with a long rope,
little red flags tied all around, tongues lapping up
the freezing air, speaking languages of the dirt 
that won't try to learn.

4) luring: the pig. the football waiting for teeth.
tell the wolf, "here in america we play." the pig staring
out the window as well. the wolf will come for the pig
& nothing else. 

5) poisoning: mix in with lard or tallow. a handful 
of once animal. yes, eating gently. this is the best
way to hunt anything, feeding them a cup full 
of fat till they drop. delicious drone death. 

6) trap: then there is the pit, where the earth gives
way beneath us. i build a pit in the front yard, maybe to 
catch wolves or maybe to catch someone else. i'm here 
waiting for the snap of wood. for the rush of plummet.

but i don't hunt wolves.

other people hunt wolves.

i just count the ways they use to hunt wolves.

i love the wolves, in fact some of my family are wolves.

i can still see my father: his long snout sifting

in the brush under the pine tree behind our house.

we should let him. 

i open the front door: wince of the hinge
& i whisper. "i'm sorry wolves, i'm sorry."

the wolves slink in & sit next to me to watch
out the window. i tell them about the trap

& they drool, puddles gushing on the hard wood floor.
they let me pet them. i start the prayer 

over by saying, 
"who would want to hunt a wolf?"