The ugly sister, Alice,
glared at the mirror with reflected malice;
gave a grin
and blew a bubble;
stroked the stubble
on her chin
and simpered, in unbridled bliss,
'What a charmer I iss! '
adding, with a grimace,
'Who's the prettier, glass face? '
Cinderella. Cinderella. Cinderella.
The mirror twinkled a little wintry.
The tiny fragments of splintery
glass were swept up by footman Fred.
'What a wolatile woman! ' Fred said.
'A weally, wolatile woman! '
An officer guarded the small glass slipper,
passport to a prince and palace.
(But not for Alice.)
She squeezed and pressed and sqealed and swore
and gave a most almighty roar.
More fragments of splintering glass
were swept up by footman Fred.
'What a woracious woman! ' Fred said.
'A most woracious woman! '
Cinderella slipped easily into the other shoe,
was whisked off in a guilded carriage
to a brave new world where her goodness drew
her, to liveried servants and a royal marriage!
She stumbled her bloody way
to a fate far worse than death.
To a tiny cell with walls of mirrors.
Unbreakable, bullet proof, everlasting glass!
(From Blondin & Other Poems)