Wolf can’t handle buttons.
So before he savages Granny’s
throat he forces her to disrobe
& dress him in her own clothes.
Wolf gags at the stench
of the smudged bloomers.
He shudders as she
inserts him into her gray gown.
In the end he decides
to scalp her & wear the
short curls like a hat.
He licks at the blood soaking
into his chops. It tastes
like old rocks: like feldspar & pyrite.
Ooof! He settles into the poufy bed &
dreams on the Red Hood who
strides toward him. Those cheeks!
That hair matted with wild herbs &
topped with a crown of flowers he
Under his direction Red Hood plucks the violet
wisteria that is foaming in a tumble in the sun.
Wolf abandons himself. He buries his muzzle in flowers.
Stella Brice is the author of two chapbooks—the latest a book of dark fairy tale poems called Outgrow—which was cited in Ellen Datlow’s The Best Horror of the Year.She is a Pushcart nominee & a winner of the John Z. Bennet Prize. Her work has been published in numerous journals & anthologies including Fine Madness, Southern Poetry Review, Clean Sheets, Tierra Cruzada/Crossed Land, Women. Period., The Weight of Addition, & Improbable Worlds. Stella lives with her partner David in a 105 year old house in Houston.