When I visit a dentist, I become a coyote.
My yips turn into howls. The moon sits
just above me, shining into a cave called
Mouth, and here comes the huntress,
my nemesis, with her quills and knives.
Her masked face blocks the moonlight.
hans ostrom 2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
above me, fine write.