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Skyway to Fantasyland

This poem was published by Boston Accent Lit.

Weathervane at Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, Disney park
Photo by Ruth Paradis on Unsplash

Skyway to Fantasyland

We climb stairs to the loading platform.

The crowd presses us together. This is not an adult ride,

but it will be. We board and close the half door.

The attendant bids us safe journey, pushes our little red gondola

over the drop, and we rock on the cable, link fingers, lose sandals.

Your lips begin their sacred service. I am your red queen.

I will cut you out of my life someday. Our legs are vines, my eyes

take root in you, hands cling hard to the trellis.

The chalet pulls closer. You remove my crown,

but I permit your hand to stay where I like it.

This poem appears on the Boston Accent Lit site, Issue 18.

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