2 Quotes by Mark Wunderlich

I am your little ram,burying his muzzle in thick grass of your pasture,folded by you at night, herded by day,a dedicated dog nipping at my hocks.The day will come for you to drawthe bright sickle of the moonacross my wooly throat.Do it with love, without regret.

Weeds grew, and I ignored my chores,while the cat worried her tail of its most plumescent fur.I saw my body, white as tallow,my face framed by colorless hair,noted my appetites, then put them aside,walked and walked to wear it all away.