A species apart,
snaggle-toothed,
speech full of spitty hisses.
Horse-faced with a hangover,
half out his mind.
Gnarl-knuckled, forearms
bark-thick with scabs.
Laugh, a barking dog
frenzied on a chain.
Shredded ear, faint-lipped scar
dug into eyebrow.
Lined up his gear: rawhide gloves,
machete, scoped Remington.
Last I saw, he set out, full sun,
beneath red leaves,
which wind, reared up, soon
tore limb from limb.
This appeared in the November 2014 issue.
Carmine Starnino (@cstarnino) is the deputy editor at The Walrus. His new book of poetry is called Leviathan (Gaspereau, 2016).
Nolan Pelletier does artwork for The New Yorker, the Globe and Mail, and the New York Times.
