I’ve been gnawing this leg off
for years. You made
your trap, now lie in it.
for years. You made
your trap, now lie in it.
You lie. He lies. She lies.
We lie. Half the double
beds in America will one day spring
shut with these steel teeth—
& kids get caught in the mangle.
Driven frantic, I worry my own
anklebone, while the hunter
draws his bead. Once
he chased me for sport, for my soft
pelt, his words like snares. Now
it’s murder. Around
and around the court we go,
ridiculous as Elmer Fudd
with his blunderbuss—I’ll get you,
you wascawy wabbit—except
that Bugs had no bunnies.
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