Wooly Monsters
My dreams are wooly mammoths
monstrous beings with tusks
as long as a man's arms,
eyes as big as saucers
and hairy as all get out.
My dreams are prehistoric,
some small genetic chain
in a stem cell linking me
to where we were once
when the wooly beast
stuck his head into
our shelter, frightening
the children, fretting
the women.
The Shaman drew his likeness
on the wall of the cave
so we could attack him with sticks.
I hope the hunters will kill him
soon, or subdue him shortly.
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