Robert Verdon, #111, The Other

crocheted paddocks glimmering

in a flood of autumn dawn, and

a lamb like a ragged jumper,

red-stained, fly-blown

I am a wild dog, I have killed

the local feral cats and foxes,

and much else for which they get the blame

I foam at the mouth,

I have taken your baby,

and now I am coming for you.