Conversation with a Wolf
Somewhere in a tumbledown cottage, they say,
the witch boils the bones of children
who thought they were clever and wandered away.
But now they’re only skin and skulls.
–So sir won’t you help me to choose the right road,
I’m trying to get to the city.
In the city they say you can be what you want
but I’m stuck in today,
I can’t find my way,
so won’t you help me choose a road.
–Oh no, says the stranger with luminous eyes,
the city is not what they say.
The butchers there they’ll try to carve you alive,
the schools will devour you, the doctors deflower you,
and the firemen will take what’s left.
Your big brother passed this way two years ago,
and did you not notice, he never called home?
I begged him, the stranger said, baring his teeth,
to stay and resist,
and seek out the Witch,
but he took the broad and well-lit road.
The woodsman is coming to take off your head,
and only the Witch can protect you.
So be of bold heart,
let go of the path,
We still have time to get you there.
—You must think I’m a fool or a child, said the Girl,
to fall for such specious deception.
The Witch eats us children, she boils our bones.
— Yes, says the Wolf, Or so you’ve been told.