Saturday Night Hounds

Written by: Bethany Chipperfield

They climbed
resuming the mongrel form, 
The twelve.
A catcalling mob
burdened by sympathetic stimulants, 
Procured from the neck.
Yippering yowls 
break from a youth, 
Torn from thick, incongruous lips.
As a pack
they leap onto the quivering metal, 
Slender paws slapping on ice.
Ice all round; 
leering...over bearing... ungracious ice
To aid their whimpering might.