telling my tail

I do not have a prehensile tail.
You probably don't either.
the difference is: I want one.
I want one
and an opposable big toe

and better night vision
so that when I growl
and fling myself up into the trees
to bask in the midnight moonlight

I can be serious about being a monster
I can be serious about scaring the little boys
and the big boys
and every girl that ever lived.

I can be a proud demonic freak of nature
with sketches of my hoary visage displayed in mythologies
a thousand years from now

holding a pen in my tail while I claw out the eyeballs
of a wolf
and write a haiku about it at the same time

bright yellow eyeball
in each blood covered clawed hand
my story begins.