Story by Erika Luckert

There’s a maiden who must escape
and so transforms herself
into a pond. She is doing this
again and again, drinking
her own water while you prop
pillows round your head
and a turnip princess sprouts
from dampened soil. The children
dream of growing roots and
dicing themselves into soup,
its broth already boiling.
Just think of all the opened
mouths, the bellies growing full
with lore when frog legs
leap into a young boy’s arms—
he will bathe them first
then kiss them all, while
woodland ladies chop down
trees and lay the kindling
for a fire. Now the whole world
has tucked itself into bed.
There’s a girl who tells lies
till her child-sized teeth blacken
and fall from her jaw. She remembers
a fairytale told and then told
until it grows old as her.

From: https://frictionlit.org/three-poems-erika-luckert/

Date: 2018

By: Erika Luckert (19??- )