| Carolyn Smale |
||||
| Love Song I was a girl with a red cap, they called me Red Riding Hood, through black forest, basket filled with custards, gateaux, kuchen I could see the path falling behind me but ahead bare. I saw beginnings written in blood. Monsieur Loup, has shining teeth, is known to lurk in feathered beds, in cosy cottages. Huge-bellied. Chop, blow the house down. |
||||
|
