Little little little little,
Little Mary sat upon a pillar.
The pillar, the pillar made her giggle, giggle and shiver,
It it,
It touched touched touched.
It stroked, pressed, scraped,
Cold slimy fingers,
Yellowed teeth,
Shadows bending over her,
And then she split.
“Pain pain pain pain”
Drip dripping down between her legs.
“Red red red red”
Sticky smelly drippy dripped.
She cried, cried, cried, cried,
“No no no no
5555”
“Breathe breathe breathe breathe”
“Smile smile smile smile”
Mama said “smile Mary”
And little Mary, she smiled.
Mama Mama,
Mama read to little Mary,
Stories of towns and Jabberwockies
Little Mary listened,
She smiled.
The Jabberwocky came to town,
The Jabberwocky won a crown.
They oohed and aahed,
As it flew, teeth bared.
Its wings unfurled,
Spine uncoiled.
It opened its mouth,
A screech propelled,
Pitched and wild.
The Jabberwocky came to town,
And brought with it a mighty frown.
The Jabberwocky came at night,
The Jabberwocky brought a fright.
All the people hid their face,
Except the witch who gave no grace.
She huffed and puffed,
Like Red’s big bad wolf,
And blew all the wockies away.
The town went quiet,
Which would they choose?
The devil you know or the angel you don’t?
Sharpening their spears,
And into the night,
To find a recluse,
And make a point.
But the witch was gone, through a tear.
And when they left, the Jabberwocky gave,
To the big bright town, a waste.
And they smiled.
A smile like Mary’s
Big and wide.
Bright like a berry’s,
She smiled.
Almost asleep Mary blinked,
And in the corner, there.
She and it, linked;
Feral, grinning, teeth fair.
Spine snapping into place.
Its wings unfurled,
Wet, veined, glistening.
Its bones cracked like knuckles,
Hard as wood with the strength of none,
Flushed cheeks of one.
Breath of sweat and stale beer,
It lurched and smiled.
Smile smile, little Mary smile.
She knew,
She knew,
Which ones to choose.
Blood blood blood blood,
Soaking up her cotton dress,
Sticking to her hands.
She cried, cried cried.
Cried something sweet.
2222.
Two soft globes in her hand,
Silky soft and warm to touch.
A fresh trophy from this Jabberwocky.
And blood blood,
Rich, warm, and icky,
From parts made mangy,
Sweet coppery and tangy.
Little Mary watched,
Teeth reddened,
She smiled.
3, 3,
Three gone in a week.
Mouths opened as if to speak,
No teeth,
Only a beak.
4, 4,
Four eyes in a beaker,
Swimming in a cloudy brine,
Sewn back into sockets,
Unseeing.
Like mannequins, she dressed,
Like they used to, when they pressed.
And little Mary,
She smiled.
Interviewer: Detective tell us about this killer called the The Jabberwocky.
Detective: At this time all I can say is be careful. They are exceptionally clever and don’t leave any fingerprints. And they don’t take trophies, which is an anomaly for serial killers.
Interviewer: Any suspects?
The big man listening from home scoffs,
He hears them talk and sips his beer.
Thinks he’s tough.
The TV drowns out the other sounds,
Tap tap, tap tap, tap tap,
From the other side.
From the other side Of the looking glass,
A fingernail, akin to brass.
Thin, light, lands in fours,
Tap tap, tap tap.
He doesn’t hear,
Behind the glass,
A face appear,
Tiny, wild, bit of swaying,
She’s smiling.
The men on the TV keep talking,
Little Mary starts walking.
A scream,
Wet, gurgling.
Squirts of blood, thick like cream,
Paints the walls of the room.
He moans and groans,
He cries cries cries cries.
But little Mary, covered in something sticky,
She giggled,
She smiled.
By SHERIDAN ASAMOAH