Not That Gretel
the one with a celebrity brother, this,
the servant of a surly master who sees
her only when she chips a plate or fails
to sweep kindling, lives by her wits.
Clever Gretel savors her own cooking.
She roasts but never gets enough. Her
master, expecting a guest, takes his
carving knife to the garden whetstone.
Gretel crisps two geese to a turn. Do you
know hunger and the smell of hot fat?
Clever Gretel licks the drippings off her
forefinger, can’t resist tasting one wing.
Soon, the lopsided bird must give up
the other. You see where devouring ends.
When the guest knocks, Gretel warns,
“Do you hear the sharpening stone?
Master is preparing to cut off your ears.”
Then she calls out, “Master, your fine
friend has stolen both geese. There he goes!”
Her words slice the shiny buttons off
the master’s snug vest. Knife in hand,
he runs after his friend, shouting,
“At least, let me have one.” Gretel wipes
grease from her chin and buries the bones.
the servant of a surly master who sees
her only when she chips a plate or fails
to sweep kindling, lives by her wits.
Clever Gretel savors her own cooking.
She roasts but never gets enough. Her
master, expecting a guest, takes his
carving knife to the garden whetstone.
Gretel crisps two geese to a turn. Do you
know hunger and the smell of hot fat?
Clever Gretel licks the drippings off her
forefinger, can’t resist tasting one wing.
Soon, the lopsided bird must give up
the other. You see where devouring ends.
When the guest knocks, Gretel warns,
“Do you hear the sharpening stone?
Master is preparing to cut off your ears.”
Then she calls out, “Master, your fine
friend has stolen both geese. There he goes!”
Her words slice the shiny buttons off
the master’s snug vest. Knife in hand,
he runs after his friend, shouting,
“At least, let me have one.” Gretel wipes
grease from her chin and buries the bones.
March / April 2023
A Yonkers resident, Marion Brown holds a B.A. from Mount Holyoke College and an M.A. and Ph.D. from Columbia University. Finishing Line Press published her chapbooks Tasted and The Morning After Summer. Her poem “In the Dock, Fagin Reflects” won First Prize in the Portico Poetry Competition. Her poems have appeared in Guesthouse, the Women’s Review of Books, Kestrel, The Night Heron Barks, DIAGRAM and elsewhere. She serves on the Advisory Committee of Slapering Hol Press and the National Council of Graywolf Press.
Art: Aiyana Masla. My Neighborhood Walk. Watercolor