In all our sanctuaries we sit at risk

Naming the Beast of the Year



This beast has our country’s contours

written all over it.

It has leapt from out of the ruins

of the city, those hollow squares,

and from the great labrynth below ground

where the thread got tangled,

and from the wi-fi and the wires

through which we do not speak

but intone like digital toys

or just snarl, just howl.

The rough beast is uncaged at last.

It stalks across the burnt horizons.

It stretches its claws

it grows into itself.


                                                            Rogan Wolf, December 2016