by Tim Seibles



Say, good lookin, what brings you thisaway
amongst the fanged and the fluffy?
Grandma, huh?
Some ol bag too lazy to pick up a pot, too feeble
to flip a flapjack--
and you all dolled up like a fire engine
to cruise these woods?

This was your mother's idea?
She been livin in a CrackerJack box or somethin?
This is a tough neighborhood, mutton chops--
you gotchur badgers, your wild boar, your
hardcore grizzlies.... and lately,
this one wolf's been actin pretty big and bad.

I mean, what's up, doc?
Didn anybody ever tell you it ain't smart
to stick out in wild places?
Friendly? You want friendly you better
try Detroit. I mean
you're safe wit me, sweetcakes,
but I ain't a meat-eater.

You heard about Goldie Locks, didn'cha? Well,
didn'cha? Yeah, well, little Miss Sunshine--
little Miss I'm-so-much-cuter-than-thee--
got caught on one of her sneaky porridge runs
and the Three Bears weren't in the mood:
so last week the game warden nabs baby bear
passin out her fingers to his pals.

That's right. Maybe your motha should
turn off her soaps, take a peek at a newspaper,
turn on some cartoons, for Pete's sake:
this woyld is about teeth, bubble buns--who's bitin
and who's gettin bit. The noyve a'that broad
sendin you out here lookin like a ripe tomata.
Why don't she just hang a sign aroun your neck:
"Get over here and bite my legs off!
Cover me wit mustid--... call me a hotdawg!"

Alright, alright, I'll stop.
Listen, Red, I'd hate for something unpleasant
to find you out here all alone.
Grandma-shmandma-- let'er call Domino's.
They're paid to deliver. Besides, toots,
it's already later than you think--
get a load a'that chubby moon up there.

Ya can't count on Casper tanight either.
They ran that potata-head outta town two months ago--
tryin ta make friends all the time--
he makes you sick after awhile.

Look, Cinderella, I got some candles and some
cold uncola back at my place-- whaddaya say?

Got any artichokies in that basket?