February 2011

Le Loup Garou Déconstruit

A new poem

by Jeannette Allée
A Werewolf one Sabbath spied a young faire maiden,

Her legs dairywhite & palmpushably doughy.

Behind each knee, he shivered to see: a fang-deep dimple.


The Werewolf adjusted the lace at his collar,

Snugged on his kid gloves and approached accordingly.

“I Prithee, Damosel, may I join thee on this day so strombulent?”

The girl looked up, blew the bangs from her eyes, and popped a pink bubble,

“It’s a free woild, ain’t it?”


The Werewolf, encouraged, matched his stride to hers, jaunty-booted.

Raising his exquisite cane, he tapped it upon the tome she carried.

“Ah, a scholar, a GentleLady of the Arts & Philosophies,

Praytell, what doth thee study?”

“Nah, I’m just returnin’ it for my auntie—back to the liberry.”


At this the Werewolf paused and endeavored to correct his desire,

But he could not reach the wolfish cravings of his breeches.

Conversely, he grew more emboldened.

O Love’s Feast, to tussle with her bustle, ruffle her furbelow!

“Miss—” he said, enunciating carefully, “should I wed thee—could I bed thee?”

“You mean have a big ol’ pellow fight?” the young lady gushed.

We hope you enjoy this excerpt.

To read the full piece, please visit our store to purchase a copy of the magazine.

Jeannette Allée’s work has appeared in The Best American Poetry, the Iowa Review, FIELD, Gulf Coast, Fence, Gargoyle, Atlanta Review, and Rhino. She is the recipient of an Artist Trust grant and a 4Culture grant, and was a finalist in the National Poetry Series.

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