I Swallowed a Fly

Sleeping beauties
napped for princes in
gingham dresses they
pretended were silk.

Others bit
faux-poisoned apples,
feigning death on a
hopscotch tarmac.

Tiny, veril boys arrived -
kissing sweet cheeks
with veneration, oh!
Playground romance.

I always watched from afar;
the old lady who swallowed a fly -
waiting for her horse

of course.

Written July 8, 2003