Where Wolf? Poem by Glenn Bagshaw

Last night, with blood-thick beer, yes, you were there
and it was you that flashed your fangs to grin
when lunar light encased you like some seer
in bar's own window. Hind leg scratched your chin;
and you-the howling truth-wolfed pretzels down.
I left, and, yellow in eye, you followed
with your own pack-your pack of lies to clown
that I was human wolf. No one swallowed!
So pardon me to pass-nice glossy coat
and praise your voice, pure baritone at night!
But wolf-in-sheep's clothing is still the goat,
and hairy tale's moon-mirror- you're the fright.
Say me? No, you! Be stuck! the silver screw!
I'm fur-i-ous! Oh no! me? me? No! Yo-uueeewwww!