Friday, 15 January 2016

Raised by Wolves to be Wild and Free: thats why I howel at the moon not the sun

I grew up in the hard lands
bisected by the 45 th parallel
where men are men
and sheep are nervous
because there where
not a lot of women choices

I would run through
the bush and fuck the trees
carefully bored out
with a brace and bit
and lined with moist moss
no splinters

My Uncle had a sheep farm
deep in a basin of depravity
we slept under the stars
with canvas coverings
that leaked if you touched
them in the rain

One day this 12 year old
sheepherder asked
Uncle Herbert
why the bell rang
at midnight
what made all the men
tear off into the dark
naked with torchlights?

My uncle for all his faults
and they were many
believe me
told me in the best
way possible that
the men where fucking
the sheep

As a twelve year old
I did not think I was old
enough to make a move
from a tree to a ewe
but I was certainly intrigued

The only thing that really
pulzzed me 
was what was with the bell

Herbert gave me a great life 
lesson that day
you see life is a competition
and everyone wants the 
best prize
they rang the bell
to keep all things
to ensure no man got
off early 
cause no one
would want to
get that ugly sheep

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