Little Red Riding Hood

I have written my history somewhat differently

I did wrote it to give nursery teachers

A topic of talk on

and so they could get a clear lesson

I want to tell that little girls shouldn't run inside the woods

to look for funny flowers,

and should stay away from strangers.

And then I've transfigured the plot

Couldn't I have torn her flesh into pieces

and suck the salty bones of her body

Why did I have to be curious about the living hood of her granny?

As if I, a jungle traveler

had no idea of the hut

under the giant banyan tree

and the old woman lived there

all on her own?

As if I couldn't have devoured her a decade before?

Related story

From the desk of children's book writers

And you may call me the Monster Wolf,

now my only entitlement

But I was not a child-abuser

though you'll accept that she was beautiful.

The hunter had

Cut my thick grey fur

Bisected my round belly 

and overloaded me with trash and stones

So that children could make fun of me.

So that they could have frowned smelling

The odor from inside of my stomach

and even hit me with wooden sticks

So that I would have to end the tale

on a crying note.

(A rephrased version of A Wolf's Postscript to Little Red Riding Hood)