Growler | Mark Turcotte

Once tried to kill it,
the dark animal
pacing In my chest
with all my demons
wrapped
around its tail.

I built a fire
in the back yard,
burned eighteen years
of words,
watched notebooks
curl into ash
and spiral bones.

The Growler,
writhing inside,
ripped me open,

pushed out a hesitant claw
and began to sing.

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