Monday, March 16, 2009


It wasn't my fault
she stole her mother's jewelry box,
dropped it and smashed the mirrored cover.
She was dazed by the glitter and the spilled perfume—
it wasn't my fault I'd been mending
the queen's diaphanous unmentionables
and I'd left a needle
in the midnight blue velvet that lined the box
and the silly chit stuck herself on it.

Oh, how the queen scolded.
How the king careened raging around the castle,
while the chamberlain fluttered after him.
"Calm yourselves, Majesties—
at least it wasn't a spindle—"
they turned to the princess
as a maggot crawled from her mouth.

perfume; scold; diaphanous; raging; glittering; maggot; needle; stolen; careened
Words from Read Write Poem.

Collection available! Knocking from Inside


Anonymous said...

i really like how this ends. the last two lines really set this apart from the fairy tales that are suggested in some of the words/images. great contrast.

Raven's Wing Poetry said...

I like the feel of this piece - and its dark ending. Nice twist.

sam said...

Hey I love the metaphors in this one! Funny yet dark. Lovely piece :)