Goldie and Cindy grow up

I prayed to the pig of the evening
For when Goldilocks picked her gown
She works in the mall
She's a shop girl
For her if things aren't up they're down
Some dresses are just too hot
Some are just too cool
So she opts for the frock in the shop
She thinks is neither too good nor too rude

She meets different men in her shop
To come to her aid they tried
As she's standing at her counter
And ask her to be their bride
Some of their beds are too small
Of her men way too tall
Some of them like to show they can spend
But she's hanging on waiting
For her millionaire friend
And she turns down all of their offers

A friend of a friend
Walks up to her with his "do as I dare'
And ends up trumping them all

She meets Cinderella on her break
From the night time canteen
They grab a coffee at 3 in the morning
And talk over the men that they've seen

Cinderella has this Prince Charming
He's out for the perfect match
He's been around town
Seen every gown
And in Cindy he thinks he's made
The right catch

But Prince Charming ain't got no money
And Cindy is poor as a dime
She decides to work in the laundry
And Earn better money for her time
She works round the clock
To buy the fanciest frock
To catch a better class of male in their  prime

Said Cindy -"Well Goldie why don't you come dancing?"
"Or introduce me to some of your men?"
"Now Cindy", said Goldie
"You already have Prince Charming
What more can you possibly want then?"

Still they went out next evening
With the millionaire feeling
Drawn to Cindy's new dress
While Goldie who was more demure
Found herself ignored
And her fine finesse
Of her home made dress
Caught only the light of the shade
Compared to the bright dazzle
That Cindy's dress made

Two weeks later Cindy was married
To Maximillion who had not tarried
And Prince charming was kicked out on the street
Kicking the can when who did he meet?
But Goldie on her way back to the shop
So he talked and briefly they stopped

Concrete dreams

Come on raise this building

Like a Moses foundation

Pillars of Salt

And pillars of rock

The three little pigs in a housing shock

Negative equity of Goldilocks

Rising inflation forced onto bears

Some of them built Shepton Mallet

The town

Sheep rustlers, shearers, 

Property of the crown

Strode was there with flowing hair

Looking down

Upon the poor who flocked to her door

Including the Ugly duckling

Black swan, white swan not seen anymore

Only on the pub signs swinging above the door

Periwinkle, weasel, wren and Robin

In the twisting clematis hob-gobble

Hoblin, goblin, shaven head

What dreams we have, when we are dead

Dying, trying to be new

Shepton Mallet, pallet crew

Shifting cider

Shifting saw

Bed pan, dustpan, bread pan more

Whistle down the truckers road

Hard granite town

Prince from a toad

Someone dreamt of a cinema

Another of a theatre

Built an enormous house

That turned into a monster

Some say its hideous, oh what an eye-sore

What do we need a fairy tale

We have Ugly post modernism to abhor

I'm not sure

It is a ball and chain

Tying the town down

It is almost a shame, almost a game

A mirror of the Church somehow

Except a warped being bent and contorted

Not given full form

Like a nineteen eighties computer game

Grasping at perfection

In replication, Ironic in it's supplication to

perfection, acknowledging limitation

Yet that was cool back then

Now it is a record of a time before

It is like a tetras castle fallen out of the sky

Landed like a giant parcel, some knowledge of 

an American Apple pie

But incoherent and intransigent,

And in, in , in itself  out of place

In congruent

But let's not worry ourselves

It was somebody else's concrete dream

And we no longer see the seams

It has been sewn into the fabric of life

Now it is a gym, it has turned into

It's own image of itself at last

A modern church - a temple to the body

The material wealth

Of protein and carbohydrate

Packed inside, prayed to 

Heated up baked in the crucible

Of exercise and self-belief

The Great I, the great I am

As we climb mount Ego

On the steps

As we let off steam

As we lose sweat by the buckets

On the exercise bike

Perhaps we lose our selves

We forget the boredom of days

That put on the fat

We negate with positive prayer, the mantra, I will get there

One step at a time

Like a stair way to heaven

Built of tetras bricks

That have fallen down for our sake

To climb, to work out

Rearrange angles, remake

So perhaps this ex theatre really is our modern church

as close as we can make it

Though I am yet to see John the Baptist

Lift a Bar bell in there

Although you never can tell of course

Rapunzel and Todd

 He worked at Rapunzel Hair and Beauty Salon

They did the longest braids and hair extensions

That were ever known

The hairdressers Salon was at the very top

Of a tall tower in the middle of a forest

An unusual place for a hairdressers you may ask,

But as for that I cannot say

Only that a gentleman barber was passing that way

A travelling barber they say from Seville

Sweeney Todd, Michael Wood or it could have been Brazil

But either way he saw his chance and went in for the kill

May I present to you myself

A barber of exceptional skill

Just off the shelf, the shampooed elf

Cut a striking figure of thrill

Rapunzel said how could you dare

To cut off my locks

There's more locked up in your hair

Though it may come as quite a shock

Like Samson, that is where your strength

Lies in strands as long as wise

And I'd offer them as extensions

To those dim witted or passing ill

I think your locks would make a fool wise

Make a weak woman strong

In your strands so to speak

Is the strength of old Babylon

Fairy tale blues

 As I slip free of Peter pan

See him go back into the night

Where he first began

And wash Wendy's hands in the dishes

Of Woman and man

I set up the moon

And I take down the sun

And the witches of Eastwick

They can't follow my plan

And I put Dorothy's red shoes

back under her bed

And I lead the lion

To the land of the dead

Well I have the blues in fairy tale land again

And I set the stone of Rosetta

In the mind of the child

Who wished upon a twinkling star

I fought the urge to be wild

With Cinderella and her sisters

When she came home with a Pumpkin Prince

But I've got the fairy tale blues again

I'm not mad at you Little beau peep

It's just the sheep that you keep

They can't help me to sleep

I'm not sad like you little boy blue

Just pull your thumb out of the plumb

And turn your face to the sun

It's time to stand up like a man

I wish you were free little mermaid

To swim your way back to the sea

But if you find the key, why not give it to me

For I've got the fairy tale blues again

Cutting Glass

All along the paths of stone
That bruise and hurt our feet
There are none who would throw us a bone
Among those we meet

So many so the wild dog howls
Up from the depths of hell's bowels
Its been rejects of them that prowls
All along the jetty

Sometimes out on the lake at night
The wild wolves roam,
Their homes out of sight
All alone their eyes are bright
Out on the lake tonight

Sometimes out in the deepest forest
Tigers roar, warthogs forage
But it is all in jest
Of every last homage
To Budapest
Or the road once promised

Sometimes in the dreaming spires
I catch a glimpse of burning fires
Spiraling up into the sky
Like tears streaming down from the Sun's eye

Sometimes I feel the hilt dig in my side
Sometimes it is a thorn
Sometimes a spike, mostly
It is the sword thrust from love
That makes me cry

Why do you always move the stairs
From the steeple?
Why always move the chairs
For all the musical people?
Why when nobody cares
Do the wolves show their wares
And sell their teeth?

Why in the crooked house
Where snow white sleeps
Does the wicked witch creep
and always preach?
About how trolls should not be trusted
And how Goldilocks is crossing
Over another bridge
Then she tires of her stroll
And reaches for the porridge in the fridge

And why is puss in boots stuck in
The smartest suits when you
Feel he is a Spanish kitty
Meant for ally-cat pursuits

There can be no let up for
The open can of worms
That Cinderella is left to hold
After the cigarette factory burns

She should have worked in a glass works
And held onto a zoo of animals
Instead she lent towards the prince
Who was consumed with financial windfalls
And sucked into Pumpkin growing
On the slopes of Kilimanjaro