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Life is Grimm but not like fairytales
By Crysse Morrison
You know it's a fairytale when the princess arouses
from a hundred years' coma as fresh as a daisy,
moist lips, taut breasts, and cherry nipples.
In real life each time you wake,
your tits are more like chewing gum,
your peachiness more pruney.
I shall take no more naps.
You know it's a fairytale when the princess succumbs
to whines from a brute, and at her caress
he turns beautiful and pledges love.
In real life each time you offer your heart
he turns ugly and growls This
is all your fault - you made me like this.
I shall embrace no more beasts.
You know it's a fairytale when the phoenix arises,
the firebird returns, the ice splinter melts,
and the dancer with red shoes - cuts off her feet?
In my world there will be no such compliance,
no pragmatic submission,
no good conduct remission,
I shall paint my toes scarlet and dance like a harlot,
and when I'm too old to spin straw to gold
I shall start a sanctuary for dragons.
more about me in The Poetry Shed
and on Burning Eye Books podcast