DEAD MOON CALLING MY NAME by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

The dead moon is calling my name.
I walk around on my hands and feet
howling like a wolf and growling.
I feel like a Mexican werewolf in
London, only in America.

I have a hunger and thirst for
something more tastier than blood.
Feed me tacos, give me beer, and
nobody will get hurt. I’ll put a
20 down, you can keep the change.

The dead moon is calling my name.
Maybe it is just the voices in my
head reminding me it’s time to eat.
I’ve got the midnight munchies.
Let the dead moon lead the way.

Luis was born in Mexico, lives in California, and works in the mental health 

field in Los Angeles, CA. His poems have appeared in Ariel Chart, Beatnik Cowboy,

Dope Fiend Daily, Unlikely Stories, and Zygote In My Coffee.