Fairytale Poem by Lindsay Elise

Cinderella,

with her slippers of glass,
clicks her heels three times
and is drawn into a world
of yellow brick roads.
Where the trees throw at her
their apples,
their poisoned apples
those which, if she bites
she is obliged into an endless sleep.

Seven men place her
under a case
and again we’re back to glass.

Glass.

In the tower the hourglass is running out.
A trio of oddities rescues her
those without wits, heart, or courage
but she flies back home
in a hot air balloon
and upon reaching the ground
the balloon converts into pumpkin mush
just barely

after midnight.