Cinderella Sets the Record Straight
I’m done with the glass business
and am out to set the record straight.
By business, I mean business. ʼCause you see,
my story didn’t end at a shoe fitting.
That’s where I stepped it up.
The fairy tale stepmother spun for royalties
was riddled with blind spots.
I’ll never forget the fear in Prince’s eyes
when I said no.
Stepmother, dumbstruck, dropped her teacup.
Surely she doesn’t mean it! she gasped,
worried her share would slip away.
Face waxen, he asked for a private chat.
I wasn’t prepared for that, he mumbled. It’s simple, I said.
I won’t marry a guy who forgets my face.
He stumbled, cheeks crimsoned, confessed he liked shoes
better than girls. I raised an eyebrow and pounced:
Here are my terms for a partnership.
He grinned and we sealed a deal. He got a sham bride,
I, a backer for my venture to shatter glass reins
that bridle and censure. ʼCause you see,
those glass slippers hurt like mother*%$*ers.
I saw a market in desperate need of disruption, seized it,
smashed every glass and shod every lass with sense
on this side of Shangri-la. With his cash and my wits,
we flattened an empire.
For your wider lanes and comfy kicks,
you’re welcome.
and am out to set the record straight.
By business, I mean business. ʼCause you see,
my story didn’t end at a shoe fitting.
That’s where I stepped it up.
The fairy tale stepmother spun for royalties
was riddled with blind spots.
I’ll never forget the fear in Prince’s eyes
when I said no.
Stepmother, dumbstruck, dropped her teacup.
Surely she doesn’t mean it! she gasped,
worried her share would slip away.
Face waxen, he asked for a private chat.
I wasn’t prepared for that, he mumbled. It’s simple, I said.
I won’t marry a guy who forgets my face.
He stumbled, cheeks crimsoned, confessed he liked shoes
better than girls. I raised an eyebrow and pounced:
Here are my terms for a partnership.
He grinned and we sealed a deal. He got a sham bride,
I, a backer for my venture to shatter glass reins
that bridle and censure. ʼCause you see,
those glass slippers hurt like mother*%$*ers.
I saw a market in desperate need of disruption, seized it,
smashed every glass and shod every lass with sense
on this side of Shangri-la. With his cash and my wits,
we flattened an empire.
For your wider lanes and comfy kicks,
you’re welcome.
November / December 2022
V. A. Bettencourt writes poetry and flash fiction. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Magma Poetry, The American Journal of Poetry, and Willows Wept Review, among others.
Art: Valentine. Oil on canvas. T, Aguilera.