Lost in the Forest

I'm carrying this around in my pocket today.

Lost in the Forest

by Amy Gerstler

I’d given up hope. Hadn’t eaten in three

days. Resigned to being wolf meat ...

when, unbelievably, I found myself in

a clearing. Two goats with bells

round their necks stared at me:

their pupils like coin slots

in piggy banks. I could have gotten

the truth out of those two,

if goats spoke. I saw leeks

and radishes planted in rows;

wash billowing on a clothesline ...

and the innocuous-looking cottage

in the woods with its lapping tongue

of a welcome mat slurped me in.

In the kitchen, a woman so old her sex

is barely discernible pours a glass

of fraudulent milk. I’m so hungry

my hand shakes. But what is this liquid?

“Drink up, sweetheart,” she says,

and as I wipe the white mustache

off with the back of my hand:

“Atta girl.” Have I stumbled

into the clutches of St. Somebody?

Who can tell. “You’ll find I prevail here

in my own little kingdom,” she says as

she leads me upstairs—her bony grip

on my arm a proclamation of ownership,

as though I've always been hers.

Comments

[anotherposter]

Aww...that is so very awesome!

Very nice indeed!