How do I love Wolvie? Let me count the ways.
I love Wolvie to the depth and breadth his
Claws can slash. My love for Wolverine is
More than some swift-passing adolescent craze.
I love Wolvie when his steely, sidelong gaze
Says more than any quip. Yet, when he says,
"Them's fightin' words, Bub," that too is pure bliss.
I love Wolvie, who, with a cigar always
Clamped between his teeth, will sneer and snarl and growl.
I love Wolvie as he wades into a fight,
I love the way he swaggers. I love his howl,
His berserker rage, even his lack of height.
What can I say? The Wolverine can prowl
My territory any day or night.