Micropoetry Monday: Myths, Legends, & Fables


The Girls—
Past, Present, & Future—
walked into The Space Bar,
lamenting their lot in life:
that she was stored in the cloud,
subject to hacking,
easily forgotten,
& often repeated.
that she was contained in a crystal ball,
subject to breakage
& constantly changing course
whenever someone got a look-see at her.
But Present—
who was the most vibrant of them all—
bemoaned her infinitesimally brief life
& the fact that Past often stole from her,
& Future often outshined her.
Yet through the haze of consciousness,
Present took heart in the fact
that no one could escape her.

When Waking Beauty was born,
she was given 3 gifts by her 3 godfathers:
an eye for the men,
a nose for news,
& a mouth that could peel the paint
off an old stable.
When she interviewed her betrothed,
Prince Charming,
who found her less than disarming,
she softened her tone,
which only hardened her heart,
& she realized that the lumberjack’s son,
with his winter’s supply of wood,
was the king of her cabin.

Father Time’s Last Stroke at Midnight

All her life,
her father had been obsessed
with his grandfather clock,
& every Sunday night,
like a religious ritual,
he would wind it up before he wound down.
For the love of that clock—
his tick-tock-tocking idol—
he had missed so much of her life,
but when his time clock
was about receive its last punch,
he told her the secret:
that Fate had taken her during that Arbor Day picnic
when she had fallen into the bubbling brook,
only to be pulled out in the nick of time.
He had rushed home to turn back the clock,
to bring her back from the dead,
& she knew that even as that clock
had given him 18 more years with her,
it had gotten those 18 years another way:
in his worrying that something would happen to him
if something happened to her—
that he wouldn’t be there to turn back the clock.
And so in forsaking his living in the present
to reimagine another’s future, if needed,
he had missed a wedding & a birth,
which had both been as uncertain at one time
as her untimely death would always be.

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