“Many bowdlerised versions indicated a Victorian-minded censorship, which feared that Little Red Riding Hood might some day break out, become a bohemian, and live in the wood with the wolf.” Jack D. Zipes
Don’t Mess With Red
As the wolf, that teddy-boy with slicked back quiff and leather jacket, so rugged, so volatile, disclosed his true nature with the flick of his switch-blade, Red took to him with a broom handle forcing him from her house. As she chased the wolf out through the front gate she noticed a woodsman with a clip board , all suited up and frowning.
Exasperated, Red asked him why he hadn’t intervened, to which he replied, with an air of arrogance, “I’m here to effect your detention before the committee.” “O! Really, on what charge?” Asked Red. “On several charges in fact” said the woodsman. “Name them” said Red, annoyed and gripping the broom handle tightly. “Well, you’re so young and you were out after curfew, you were unchaperoned, you entered the woods alone, your clothes, they are inappropriate and provocative, you also beat an animal, and you’re a girl. What do you have to say for yourself?” With a snarl she hit him hard.
There’s a fruit tree in her yard that is thriving, and once a week she takes tea with the wolf.
“Never pretend to a love that you do not actually feel ….” Alan Watts
Your badge said Altamisa,
I'm sure you've fevered a few,
your smile jellied me right through,
and the crook of your finger
stumbled thoughts in my head.
The way you played your hair,
tell-tale sign of coy regard,
as fly to trout, down is my guard,
in vein my temples burst,
I'm hooked and baited.
I glance your ankles,
you catch my look,
reading me as if a book,
shifting your legs you show some more,
I love your plot, while losing mine.
Wanting to hold you,
longing to graze your lips,
he pushes past and the spell slips,
somehow I misread the lie,
but at the door you turn and wink.