The first and only democratic, member-ran poetry community — Register Free
Submitted by Kieran Nelson on 22 January 2008 - 5:12pm.
Style / Type:
freeform
I can just picture them now:
raised by wolves,
fed upon raw meat,
howling at the moon.
And when of age,
say, about 12 or 13
they will leave
their lobos mothers
and wave a tearful good-bye
to the forest of their childhood.
Then suited,
booted,
armed,
to the teeth.
With tracksuit over fur,
they board the train.
Destination:
SOCIETY
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
How does this theme appeal to you?
Is the internal logic consistent?
This is just something I thought after reading an article in the paper the other day. The Sun, if your wondering.
(4 votes)
feral teens
i really like this. the wordplay is excellent, and overall, it is amazing.
Very nice though I must say
your picture doesn’t do you justice. “Suited, booted, armed to the teeth” ain’t that the truth. Sharp and biting social commentary, you do the poet’s duty proud me boy!
RT
Even after reading the title...
I was still smiling about the destination..nice pictures of the carnal youth.. the title is really good for the poem…
Feral indeed.
Quick and too the point,without being rushed out into the world…the poem that is…lol
In ink,
Dabbler
Thanks
Thank you for all your comments, your much too kind!
Kieran
“Mind, how you go!”
- Roger McGough’s poem for LSD Awareness Week