Saturday 3 October 2020


by Alethea Eason

I didn’t know that the swan’s wings were clipped.
I believed they were perfect unlike anything else in Anaheim.
I wanted a dress like Sleeping Beauty’s. I wanted seven
in different colors, and a wand, and a tiara of crystals
in my politically incorrect desire to be a princess.
I bought rock candy with the coins in my plastic
red change purse. When I squeezed, the slit
down the middle opened like lips. It didn’t occur
to me to make a sexual metaphor in 1964,
but the brightly colored crystals sent me into sugary ecstasy
that certainly rotted my teeth. My reputation had to wait.
A year before, in second grade, sitting on the cafeteria floor,
we watched the movie. I felt the puncture of my own
index finger when the poisoned needle pierced Aurora.
Now, at eight, bobby pins stung my scalp. My mother
secured my black mouse hat (with a bow) to my thick
dark hair with those little bastards.
The calliope music lured me across the sill
of Fantasyland to King Arthur’s carousel. I yearned
for the black horse with the white tail and purple mane.

* * * * *

Alethea Eason is an award-winning writer and artist who has found happiness and her true home in the intersection of desert and mountains in southern New Mexico.


  1. "My reputation had to wait." No shit, to use an expression that no doubt also had to wait. Love this poem!

  2. "seven in different colors" and now one color for 100 days!