We open up on Wolfies’s wife,
and her sad, string-tugging tale,
of her fine, old husband cut stone dead,
of babes to feed and bills in the mail.
And Wide-mouthed Jack catches all those tears,
counting the figures on his glinting fingers,
while the watchers wait impatiently,
talking about trash and half-done singers.
Enter now the Little Red harlot,
with curled white hands and satin shoes,
the fur will fly (metaphorically speaking),
the crowd gulp spiders and witches brew.
Here’s the woodsman to make his case,
pointing the finger at a murderous devil,
coz Wolfie chowed down on butter-sweet Grandma,
he saved the day, give that man a medal.
And Wide-mouthed Jack tends his golden geese,
whips up the words into a tornado,
Dorothy’s caught along with the watchers,
right to the end of this tragic fable.
End on a high, let’s go meet Grandma,
out in Hawaii with her hirsute lover,
she and Wolfie planned the whole thing,
to run off and try for happily ever after.
As the curtain falls on this sad story,
Wide-mouthed Jack offers Cinders for show,
confronting her Step-sisters with their deeds,
slavery, shoes and sliced off toes.