Villains

On a scattered page of prose
In some fairy tale far away,

Nature took a life of her own- softly
Whispering; as castles came crumbling
Down- flaps of words- unyielding in silence;
Blood brewing on a stove; red hood baking
In the oven; grandma in her sandals- reliving
Her eleventh hour; the pumpkin crushed
In the maw of a lupine man; tedious men
Gracing the courts of sisters illegitimate;
And the mephitic curses of cruel mothers;
Converge upon a candy house of lamb
Sleeping; gazing into a world oneiric;
Untouched by these dirty hands; only
To kick the bucket when his farmer
Approaches; with a knife and slaughter.

And as prose drew life from his world
Into ours, we shut our books and think
We remember villains better.

cuRRent...jer  ¶ 8:35 pm