The wolf likes to drive fast cars.
I climb into the seat beside him,
show a little leg as I do. The hunt
is on, and two can play. Of course,
I knew he was the wolf. Why else
would I wear that red coat,
carry my basket of bread, cheese
and wine, walk alone through
the dark woods? I let him
take me home. There was no grandma.
That’s my cover, just the woodsman,
an even more dangerous lover.