Treasure Island

Rena Kay


Werewolf in New Orleans


I saw a werewolf, sitting at a table in New Orleans
Perusing the menu, waiting on the wild queens

Eyeliner of azure coated his lids, mascara too thick
He was trying to fit in, fighting to control his cowlick

The queens strolled by, their giggles too loud
The werewolf ducked his head, avoiding the crowd
He had slicked his hair, and perfumed his thick mane
But it didn't matter, he still came off lame


Into the quarters the queens gaily danced along
The werewolf jumped up to follow, wanting to belong
Slinking into the shadows, quietly matching their steps
Off to the dance club to show off their moves and biceps

Cafe Lafitte was rocking this night, LSU had just played
The werewolf ordered a Shirley Temple and eyed the charade
If only they would let him join, he could put on a show
He had on his best dress, and even wore a pink bow

He wobbled when he sauntered over in his stiletto heels
Ignoring the cat whistle from the Werebear eating eels
He could do this, regardless what his brother said
What did he know; he was just a silly airhead

He approached the Wererabbit in the red Prada dress
And ask if he could dance, while trying to impress
He simpered, ' Since I was a young pup of sixteen
That's all I ever wanted was to be a drag queen.

Submitted: Tuesday, September 03, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 04, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

A little Louisiana humor

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