Bread crumbs around my dust ruffle,
I want a gold-haired prince to come
kiss my pink Necco Wafer cheeks.
I dreamed him in a suicide sno-cone-
colored cummerbund. He had eyebrows like McDonald's
Golden Arches. We lounged in the mall food court
drinking Cokes until Mom huffed & puffed,
refilled my cup with Ogilvie Home Perm Solution.
My dark hair frizzed out like a forest of thorns.
His eyebrows were decals that peeled...
Almost awake, I watch the phone poles stretch
like beanstalks. I daydream death
distilled to sleep by the soft lips
of a glowing boy. He'll ride a white cake horse.
I'll hear a sweet knock on my door
and it won't be the Big Bad Mom
with a Dust Buster blaring the word stale.
(previously published by Wayne Literary Review)