At the Ends of Fairy Tales
Birds nearly always pluck out the bad girls’ eyes
while toes are cut away to accommodate
(somewhat bloody) dainty shoes. No surprise
that in the drawn-from-the-thrown-bone world, fate
demands retribution; the happily-
ever-after happier in the here
and now with a side of vengeance snappily
dished out. (‘And, for you, Stepmother Dear,
how ‘bout a barrel of nails, a handy
hill?’) For, in truth (forsooth), bliss that will last
is difficult to depict–all candy
we’ve ever known melts upon first taste, fast
forwards to decay, while the sudden woes
of others engrave our brains (like those lost toes).
(The above is a poem for the dVerse Poets Pub Poetics challenge, relating to fairy tales. Check out the site!)
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