I believe I could be content
With this house,
This street, these friends
If it wasn’t for the howling down the road
Underneath
The wild call of what if

A full moon
Makes me want to throw open the shutters
Jump out on the lawn
Dance naked on rose petals
Open mouthed and barking
Paint blue swirls on my nipples with wode
Take a new lover with dark tangled hair
Lie by some far away fire
Whisper guttural words that don’t mean anything
Be gone by morning

Or maybe catch a train, destination unknown
Ride those clackety steel rails towards the sunset
With only the clothes I’m wearing
A dollar in my pocket
Calling myself Sheila

If it wasn’t for the howling I could bake bread
Sit in the kitchen sipping tea from a red teacup
Dream about the past
Lovers that didn’t last
Careers that go by so fast
And be content

But oh the howling

The howling