The demon in stripes
has run amok, flashing teeth
and slashing tail, rending flesh
and mounting screams
with full abandon.
In his wake, a girl cries,
wrist stitched and arm gored
mistakenly,
for she was not
his intended victim.
The demon only strikes
intentionally
in mischief or revenge,
but sometimes,
his teeth slip.
Now he returns, sated,
to a purring, nestled ball
in a warm and sacred enclose
of dappled sunshine.
Rachel Westfall
July 11, 2012
4 comments:
"Tiger, tiger, burning bright"
no friend of mine,
or small,
scarred, scared,
girl.
Mind your manners
lest you be
banished
from the sunlit warmth
to the outer, utter,
darkness.
Very nice, Bear!
A Daunting Task
The fairy ships leave
port after the slaying's done
and the beast excised,
toothless and shrunken
while the latest accident,
the slip of a girl,
bleeds out slow, lain flat
and still on the stony beach
below the old town.
It took twenty-two
of the wee folk to sever
the monster's hot throat.
I'm so glad you are back, Christopher! I've missed you.
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