The work of a werewolf is hard work--
mutilating animals, howling at the moon.
It is not easy to terrorize all night.
Sometimes I need
a little water, a soft rug
to circle and rest on.
Sometimes I need sweetness,
the caress of a human hand.
All I ever want to do is take a little walk.
It is not easy to transform--
my body taken over by fluorescent
waves and tremors. Tremors
going all up and down
as I slowly shed hair and
At the end, my body is finally
naked and vulnerable,
Callie S. Blackstone writes both poetry and prose. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Plainsongs, Freshwater Literary Journal, and others. She is a lifelong New Englander. She is lucky enough to wake up to the smell of saltwater and the call of seagulls everyday. You can find her online home at callieblackstone.wordpress.com.