Gray Wolf


The myth begins with gray fur
and yellow-moon eyes.

The teeth. First, there are whispered
sightings, dismissed

into the neighboring water.


Next, the discovery
of cattle bones, picked clean,

the bodies having disappeared
days before. The farmers are not pleased.

What they are doing is
unacceptable, they say,



Then, the massacre: the story to begin
the hunt that will end

all hunts. It is reported
the children in the classroom

didn’t have a chance, the room a series
of red walls, the windows

a private-viewing chamber. Somehow,
the wolf was trapped inside,

able to feed.


The production of guns.


The problem that appears
to neighboring towns is this:

later that day, all the little feet
and backpacks

made it home. Not a drop of blood
was found. And yet—

the anthropomorphic need
to hunt continues:

it feeds.


on the current issue of potential Gray Wolf hunting in the upper-peninsula of Michigan, via the Kalamazoo Gazette


About mckenzielynntozan

McKenzie Lynn Tozan lives and writes in South Bend, Indiana, where she works as the Departmental Secretary of English and World Language Studies at Indiana University South Bend, and remains closely affiliated with 42 Miles Press, New Issues Poetry and Prose, and Wolfson Press. She previously received her MFA in Poetry from Western Michigan University, where she worked as the Layout and Design Editor for New Issues Poetry and Prose and as an Assistant Editor of Poetry for Third Coast. Her poems have appeared in Encore Magazine, Sleet Magazine, Rogue Agent, Thank You for Swallowing, Whale Road Review, The James Franco Review, The Birds We Piled Loosely, and Analecta; and her book reviews have appeared on her website and on The Rumpus. She lives with her husband, their daughter, and three cats. For more, visit View all posts by mckenzielynntozan

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