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    Thursday, May 05, 2005

    The Hansel & Gretel Forest 9

    9
    The tap of his finger
    against the squawking of the birds
    produces a beat
    rat a tat
    rat a tat tat tat
    pim-pom,
    pim rat a pom tat tat
    an S.O.S. with substance
    Gretel only notices because the roof has flown off
    something about refusing to
    relinquish its chocolate core
    the insides of the house are swirling
    the triangle shaped room
    comes out whole
    air born, perched atop the bramble bush
    amidst glass jars, red cloaks, a liquor cabinet

    the beldame is last—
    speared through vertically with a poker
    landed in the fire pit
    a click and the spit is turning
    gas engulfed
    licking her legs lovingly

    Hansel is all punctured through
    a punched out boy
    Gretel knows it won’t last
    the beldame will pour through
    seal him up when she takes a last breath

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