Throats

My son howls at the fox. I guess
the long snout is enough, the body
 
we associate with a dog, doggish,
even the terrier next door throws
 
back his head, howling at us when
we come close. I always feel like
 
it’s an invitation, over the fence,
the vulnerability of the neck, and I
 
learned wolves howl to rally, to unite.
I can imagine that a silent pack would
 
be quicker to disband than one that
offered themselves like that, throats
 
bared, always saying to each other,
Me too, me too.
 
 
 

Sarah Blake is the author of Mr. West, an unauthorized lyric biography of Kanye West, out with Wesleyan University Press. Named After Death is the title of her chapbook, forthcoming from Banango Editions. Her poems have appeared, or will soon, in The Kenyon Review, The Los Angeles Review of Books, The Threepenny Review, and many others. She was awarded an NEA Literature Fellowship for poetry in 2013. She is Editor at Saturnalia Books and co-founder of Submittrs. She lives outside of Philadelphia with her husband and son.