Cinderella by Nin Andrews (for her daughter, Suzanne)

CINDERELLA

for my daughter, Suzanne


So tell me this.  Why did that prince want to marry
some girl, so slim she could dance in glass slippers?
And I mean, dance, not pussyfoot around.
And why is it that no maiden in the entire kingdom
ever shattered that glass shoe?  One step in
and smasho.  Now doesn't that tell you something
about women back then?  Even those mean, ugly
stepsisters . . . .  They didn't carry any weight at all.
The best were as light as milkweed with nothing
but dreams to keep them happy.  And the beautiful
were always in danger of being blown away
like kites or party balloons.  But there was one,
once upon a time and long ago . . .
There had to have been at least one
who never gazed upon her prince with silken eyes . . .
Maybe it was her scent of cinders, sweat and silt
that really turned men on and drove them wild.
So they galloped away on silver steeds, waving their lances
in the air, chanting: "Mine's bigger than yours!"

Because that, my love, is what men do best
and have done and will do happily ever after
until the end of time.