where dreams of walrus go

once the mornings smelled
of giant pink penguins
and blood

under my slick furry chest
burns hot the hunter's fire of ages
defrosts the crystals
in my unyielding whiskers
I bend, though
towards the rosy smile
of a baby in the snow
and raise my club

mothernaked, with dangling breasts
she claws herself towards me
shrieking like a beast
Boo, I bark
red melts white
twice, I grin into
the camera, holding up
my pink skin trophies

they once loved the smell
of frost in the morning
so do we