by Jeffrey Murrell


Submerged in deep-city, midnight heat
Amid the waves of neon-lit billboards
Which cracked the dark like sticks in a stream,
Frolicking with the gaudily clad whores,
I stepped into the theater's front door
As a film was showing, free for poor kids.
And who was wearing the usher's uniform?
I stepped into his booth to talk and sit
(Some were old friends, but I knew everyone on shift).

I recoiled in shock at what I saw:
A Wolf of human form, limply laid out
Across the floor, bloody, raked by claws,
Scraps of his uniform scattered about.
The curse was back! I started to shout
Into the theater, screaming and scared,
"They're back! Run away! Run away! Get out!"
I ran to a phone booth (the whores just stared),
dropped the receiver and fled away from there!