A Grimm Tale

It was a Grimm tale

in the gingerbread house by the sea,
with a witch
plump children
and everything.

It was hot
very hot
Like coals that burn your feet
The air was full of cocktail sticks
pointy and sharp
filling every space and the gaps inbetween
Waiting to take our eyes out

Envy lurked in the shower,
Competition in the fridge.
Vanity in the bathroom mirror as dark as jet
and ego was in bed ready to rise at any point;
while obsession festered in the attic.

There was a cough as
arrogance walked through the door
dropping fag ash
on the floor.

Oblivious to all she let fall
loud and hurtful remarks
that made sparks.

Hackles rise
as they began to despise
Their guest
Oh God they got depressed.

The minarettes called to prayer
as she combed her hair.
She ate the childrens chocs
and tried on all the frocks
And och ay
She drank the Tokay

They wished they were alone
in their home
And that the witching hour was over
The land of gingerbread
dead!
The sea once more
able to break upon the shore

Thoughts leaked
No one could speak
The garden filled with thorns
The lizards grew horns
And the sound of content free babble
Threatened to unravel
The summer