Twilight Of The Godmothers – Peter Kelly

Squeak Squeak Squeak Squeak Squeak
Squeak Squeak Squeak Squeak Squeak Squeak Squeak
Squeak Squeak Squeak Squeak Squeak

I erupt to life
My paws become hooves of steel
Everything is small

I am a pumpkin
I am a silver carriage
I am a pumpkin

A distant father
Who might not even exist
No father at all

Now I suffocate
Shrinking walls push in on me
Floor growing distant

Infinite consciousness
Omnipotent dressmaking
Deus ex machina

My godlike power
For your extreme makeover
Now call me mother

A shoe is a clue
My prosopagnosia
What else can I do?

Everybody
Irresponsibly
Aristocracy!

If you love royals
Then you probably think that
Fairytales are real

A poem this strange demands explanation. It comes from a creative writing exercise put to me during a university tutorial. The task was to write haikus about Cinderella.

Now I dislike haikus. The seventeen syllables limit feels arbitrary, and most haikus I encounter feel uninspired and smug. I’ll admit that limericks are worse, and that acrostics tend to be lazy.

I really wanted to find a word containing seventeen syllables. I couldn’t. If I had one, I’d whack hyphens in and create a one-word haiku. It would be glorious.

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