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Baba Yaga
by Nevada Kerr

She mounts a dark horse
In a galloping consumption
Her stretching strega tongue
Intractable with gumption
Divulges a seething tale
Gloating with presumption

Happy smiling corpse
Her thinner date for dining
The promise she rehearsed
A hearse with silver lining
No cure without her curse
Her sweet teeth always grinding

The agape and leering hag
Unquenched and craving slaughter
Deaf-mute in a blizzard
Burning for a daughter
Fills the new meat wagons
With tender tots who totter

No hot and foxy future state
No afterworld of aftertastes
On Doomsday waiting at the gates
The forest crone deals a coup de grace
With mortar and pestle she grates
Returning to dust both love and hate

Written by © Nevada Kerr
July 14, 2003.

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Created: July 2003 © Paul Kinder Last Updated: 16/7/03