He doesn’t recognize her
without her cloak and blush,
though she will not forget
who first treated her like food.
His smile, when she takes him
to her cottage in the woods,
perhaps he wishes it
were tender, hopes she
will be a taste of heaven
in the flesh, a spring lamb
born to slaughter, but as soon
as he paws her ruddy belt
she will carve across his gullet
a smile more sincere
then roll him from her bed,
his furry carcass, limp
and fat as a belly full
of undigested grandmother.
James Tolan is author of the chapbooks: Red Walls (Dos Madres Press) and Whiskey and the Rake of Mourning (Deadly Chaps). He lives in Brooklyn and is an associate professor at the City University of New York.