Snow White AF

I wonder what choice she would have made

if she had a say. Surely that damned apple would top

her list of things to set out by the curb for Goodwill.

That apple messed her up as bad as an apple

bruised Eve and all the women since. I’m betting she preferred

to stay under that blanket, sleep for decades, growing

old with no eyes to notice when her skin grows crapey.

She must have known people prefer smooth young skin

to old, pale and free from the sun’s rays. Her one-woman

tribe of dreams is absent of all the little men

scuttling around her with their needs on display,

demanding her attention, like vampires sucking

the lifeblood right out of her porcelain neck,

not yet sagging to turkey neck, for then

she would hardly have been the Fairest in the Land.

Give the dear gal a carnation to pin next to her flawless

neck, the one red spark of life blossoming in her care.

Her home was her comfortable fort, but it’s been overrun

by seven little guys with odd names. Don’t get me started

on that scoundrel Prince Charming. What’s so charming

about being woken from the best damn sleep she’s had in years,

stirred from a dream where she’s the empress of her castle,

humble as it is with hand hewn furniture suitable for kids.

Oh, and wait till the Prince learns she doesn’t want kids.

What a whale of net he’ll be caught in. Ms. Snow daydreams

of having her own place, with no one for her to tend to but

her own desires to make beautiful objects and sleep.