White Boa

The mirror spoke to her,
telling the Royal Highness
she was ugly to her people

“Beauty must end
for me to be loved,”
bemoaned the Queen , adding,
“No lamps shall be lit,
until I am the fairest of them all.

Snow White, the beautiful bitch
praised in song by the rabble,
I shall have destroyed by apples
of doom, of looming darkness.

For this I stamp my feet
to dizzy tizzy schemes:
poison ivy arise, I command,
march in tea bags from hags,
brew my hatred finely
until the stirring whirling
minions slither out, and now

magic vision crystal ball
show me success,” she said,
but she saw different.

In the Night Inn
the Royal boa constrictor,
wearing the Queen’s feather boa
tied on its body in a bow, digesting
a mouse d’orange, cursed them all,
casually flicking its tongue in vogue
at the unsuspecting mâitre d’ hôtel
who walked below the rafters
serving Snow White
her apple ala riffraff, but
the constrictor,
with serpentine logic, was
inspired to hiss, glancing
at the magic mirror,
“who is the fastest,
most wretched reptile of them all?”

Snow White screamed
dropping her apple to end all apples,
and the Seven Dwarfs
laughed at ugliness

“I am displeased
by sunshine ,
displeased by the vanity of a boa,
but I shall have
the last laugh in the end;
to death you will hear me yodel.”

Little did she know
death comes to everyone,
but Joy only
to the beautiful at heart.