A Sonnet by Tracy Farr
Down in Texas there lives an ugly beast
With no hair but fangs as sharp as knife points.
He stalks the back woods for his nightly feasts
Of goat blood and gnawed animal leg joints.
It hunts its prey by the light of the moon,
Keeping to shadows from hedges and barns.
Its spine-chilling howl can make old men swoon,
Like man-eating wolves did in ancient yarns.
Very few have glimpsed the beast on its hunt,
And those who have pray to never again.
For its eyes glow red as the blood it sucks,
Its eyes shake the knees of the bravest men.
Down in Texas where Chupacabra roams,
The locals lock doors, and stay in their homes.