Little Red, Like You’ve Never Seen Her


Looking through some of my old writings, I discovered this:

Gather ‘round my children
And come hear a tale,
An event that occurred
When I was just a gal.

My mother said to me,
“Here, please take these cakes.
Granny’s not feeling well
She’s complaining of aches.

She lives beyond the woods,
You know where to go.
But do stay on the path
You know that wolf tries so –

To gobble little girls
That pick wild flowers.
Don’t dilly or dally,
It’s only an hour.”

She gave me the basket
And a rifle too,
“It’s to protect yourself.
Use it if you have to.”

Off to Granny’s I went,
Through the woods I skipped.
With my basket and gun,
I was fully equipped.

And as luck would have it,
That wolf I did meet.
I looked him in the eye
And told him to retreat

“I have a gun, you see
And I will use it.
So go run along now
You no good misfit.”

He looked at my basket
And began to grin.
“Let’s have a race,” he said,
“I even bet I’ll win.”

I took on the challenge;
I never back down
“The finish line is Gram’s.
She lives just outside town.”

The wolf took off running
Before I said start
I hurried after him
We weren’t far apart.

When I got to Grandma’s,
The door was ajar.
Worried for her safety,
I prepared to spar.

If that wolf touched one hair
On my Granny’s head,
I’d pull the trigger and
Shoot that villain down dead.

“Granny?” I called to her.
“In here!” she replied.
I entered her bedroom
And I wasn’t surprised

In her bed was the wolf,
Oh, that rotten crook!
He ate Granny, I’m sure,
I could tell by his look.

I took aim with my gun
And swore not to cry
“My name is Little Red,
Now prepare to die”

“No, wait!” he waved his arms.
“That’s not how it goes.
You’re supposed to ask me
About my ears and my nose.”

“Tell me why I should care
About what they say?
You ate my Grandmother,
And now you have to pay.”

So I pulled the trigger
And shot that wolf dead.
The bullet found a home
Buried deep in his head.

Then I rescued Granny
From the wolf’s belly,
And used his intestines
To make grape jelly.

I tell you, my children
The lesson to learn,
Don’t ever trust a wolf
Or you might end up burned.

I saved my Granny’s life
On that fateful day
Because I knew a thing or two
About wolves and gunplay.




I believe in this.
Intangible thing.
It sweeps you off your feet
And carries you away.

This condition.
This clouded perception,
Encased in shards of light.

I believe in this.
This surrender.
This ocean of silence.

This direction.
This one-step-at-a-time.


I believe in this.
This combustion.
Already entombed under six feet of ash.

I believe in this.
This barren space.
This wasteland.
I give it to you.

I believe in this.
This solidified movement.
Come and set me free.

This exhilaration.
This breeze.
Such a gentle touch
Can you feel it?

I believe in this.
This haunting.
This wretched decay.

This filth.
Cleanse your hands;
This is best left behind.

I believe in this.
This substance.
Allow us just a sample;
A taste is all you’ll need.

This harmony.
This song.
Delicately crafted notation.

Dance for me and cry.
Promise to live,
And understand that you’ll die.

I believe in this.
Intangible thing.
This emotion.
This awakening perception.

This inevitability.
This apprehension.

This I believe in.