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Fanfare, v. 2, issue 2, whole no.8, February 1942

Page 24

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Werewolf by damon knight How strange! This place Is chang- Ing me. See, My nose-- It grows! Without A doubt A snout! And teeth Beneath. To bite At night Or kiss... What's this, You flee From me? No, stay And play. [drawing] Such fun! We'll run About And shout As you Are do- Ing now. Here, My dear, Come I! Why, You go So slow, I catch And snatch With ease. Your pleas Delight, Your fright Is wine! [drawing] You're mine; Your charms: Pale arms, Full breasts, With crests Of rose, And those Red lips And hips So round I've found A feast; No beast Could wish A dish More fair! There, I fleck Your neck [drawing] With froth: A broth To make It quake. So white, Delight- Ful throat-- I dote On you. Your blue Taut veins Like seins Of wine. ...I dine. The race, The chase Are run. It's May! What have I done! [drawing]
 
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