Little Red Riding Hood Knew

Little Red Riding Hood knew

The day she would die

But not how, or who, or why

Just that bad luck grew strong on her family tree

Worked its way into their roots

Like fungal disease.


Little brother Xander

Made a guest house for a bullet

All through the neighborhood

Shots rang like church bells


Little Red Riding Hood learned

To fear those in blue


But he seemed so nice.


That night, when she visited her grandma

In the house on the hill crested with

Blue and white flowers

She picked bluebells.


He snuck up behind her.


When she saw him, she


Some prophecies are lies

This one doesn’t have to come true


She felt her skin turn to noose, death sentence

But he said it’s okay.


He said

You must be far from home


Let me

Walk you to where

You go.


All along she thought

Maybe I’m wrong.


When they get to Grandmother’s house

He leaves her outside a while


While he swallows the old woman’s screams whole.


I am no longer primordial chaos

Premeditated murder

The hand that tugs the rope round your neck while

You sleep.



What big ears you have


The better to hear you with,

my dear



What big eyes you have


The better to see you with,

My dear



What white skin you have


The better to own you with,

My dear


When he swallowed her,

Red hood and all,


No one cared.


This poem is about: 
My country
Our world


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