I was trying to become a telepath,
so I could cheat at the crossword
and I was trying to forget
I had once been something
other than my own shadow.

I was not expecting anything.
It was before noon.
Everything around me was exhaling.

Then I saw him with my voice,
the shadow's voice, I saw it,
caught in transformation,
twisted like punctuation,
and barking.
This is how I saw him.

I could have caught him,
the werewolf of our times,
and made my fortune
presenting him to the world.

But I didn't and so I killed him,
because they live in captivity now.
Or maybe that's how it's always been,
and I never realized.

Sometimes the hand must be a fist;
otherwise, it will hold nothing.