Lost in the Woods

August 8, 2008 at 2:53 am Leave a comment

Call me the Gingerbread Woman
Freshly iced and
Dripping
Flat tummy (yes!)
And over-baked appendages
Putty
In the hands
Of Gretel and Hansel
With a shelf life
Measured in Nabisco units

A trio of pink curly-cues
Flashed by me the other day
As I relieved myself
Behind an oak

The pilfered porridge was too
Hot
And further shriveled my raisin grin
(Two-dimensional characters
Lack peripheral vision)

So I slid off the Crisco-covered baking sheet
And into the campfire
Unable to look
Behind
Do I go well with marshmallows?

Whether I’m consumed
Following a meal of singed hot dogs
And Lays potato chips
Or disintegrate after tripping
Into a field of morning dew
I’ll still vanish like the horseman’s
Head

But it wasn’t until you offered me your hand
In crossing that double-logged bridge
That I realized
What sharp teeth you have.

Entry filed under: Poetry. Tags: , , .

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