043022b

Old Wolf, New Tricks


Baba Yaga, undocumented
and facing habitat loss,
needs to make a change.

Old woman strides into a seedy bar
near what’s left of the old forest,
looking for counterfeit papers,
sure, right here in the back room,
then the cudgel—
think she couldn’t see that coming
after 800 years of human nature?
Ivan stumbles out of the back,
some of his friends hail him,
but it’s like he doesn’t hear,
he’s back a few hours later,
he still doesn’t speak,
shrugs off their hands,
goes back into that room.
Baga Yaga emerges alone,
disappears into the forest.
No one peeks into the back room
for a long long time.

The forest is clearcut
a few months later,
loggers find a tumble-down hut
on some very strange posts,
their grandmas told the old stories;
they don’t believe them any more,
but are unwilling to touch the hut;
they wait for the dozer,
which makes short work of the thing.

In Berlin, no one looks twice
at an old black-clad Russian expat,
but word gets around:
unrequited lovers, seekers of revenge
or opportunity, families who’ve
lost everything, they seek her out.

It pays the rent.