This poem first appeared inWeird Tales, Spring 2001 (Issue #323)
Don’t you pity the werewolf’s plight?
A man by day, a beast by night.
Alone in his office cube he waits,
Cursing heaven and the fates.
For they’ve decreed the full moon’s rise,
When he must don his lupine guise,
Is of a month of nights but one.
And it’s only then he’s free to run.
For the office worker’s oft neglected,
While wolves are all by law protected.
Poems Copyright © Kelly McCullough 2001-2005. May not be reproduced without the author’s permission.