ever,
ever
had Vasalisa
been
so scared.
She managed to stuff
the little doll down into her pocket
just as she was pitched out
into the nicotine night.
As she walked
she fed the doll
crumbs of bread crust
bits of granola bar
bite-sized
Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Crackers
And in exchange,
this little navigatrix
this tiny palm pilot
would whisper
directions
with the intuition of a
smart bomb
to the left
in the dark
of the night
guiding Vasalisa
this way AND that way...
of
branching trees,
towards
the ramshackle outpost
of Baba Yaga.
As Vasalisa traveled
she passed many strange
SIGNS
(some more readable than others)
There were
LOGOS
and symbols,
Posters
banners
and
NEON
marquees
left by others
who had marked this trail
in other eras before hers.
Suddenly she was blinded
by the white of some headlights
and looked up to see
a station wagon
a delivery van
a horseman
dressed all in white
riding an ivory stallion
and the sky lightened.
She walked on further
and was startled
by another horseman
this one all in red
with pinstriping and fins
and a fiery vrrrrrooooom
to him
and the sky came ablaze.
Some hours later
Vasalisa was passed
by yet another horseman
tattooed and body pierced dark
skull and crossbones dark
and the sky abruptly went black,
black as a cast iron pot
black as the bed of a printing press
black as ink.
Now the little doll calculated
that she was nearing their destination...
And so
Vasalisa
found her way
through the woods
along the service road
past the strip mall
finally coming
to a clearing
where she saw the glow of a
Country Kitchen
OPEN
24hoursaday
and knew that there
she would find
the formidable proprietress
of all things needed in the night.