Inkwell 2018-2019

Kent Smith

Neverland by Cecelia Caulfield

Bad fairies live on the side of highways In large discarded McDonald’s cups And decomposing gas station hot dogs. They lull 35 year old world-weary truck drivers Into falling asleep on the gas And overtaking the cars- the people In front of them, Domains of citified 10 year olds, As if to tell all of their fantasy-minded friends

That even if you head towards The second star on your right And fly straight on till morning After morning After morning, You’ll never reach neverland Bad fairies endure So that 13 year old cousins Can wonder What they could have done As their tears Spot the comic books under them Giving superman’s already gray cape Charcoal polka dots, So grandparents Can wonder How long it takes to die instantly As they wait in stained, sunken Armchairs For their instant mashed potatoes

Bad fairies snicker As “recovering” classmates Name their dwarf hamsters Thanatos, Hades, Ares, And eventually Aphrodite, Forgetting what Their childhood obsession With greek mythology Was about But wanting to sustain tradition And bad fairies ogle As we grow Into pharmacists, And teachers, Engineers, Paying for our children’s therapy And even if you head towards The second star on your right And fly straight on till morning After morning After morning, You’ll never reach neverland. As their friends die. Because life is life, And death is death.

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