Jeannine hall GaIley
Introduction to Ruby Slippers, Hot Air Balloons
We have seen a lot of technicolor lollipop nonsense
on our journey, the wizard and me.
It took tornadoes and hot air balloons to rip us from our humdrum.
Whatever you think of my sparkly shoes, their red gleam,
I had to kill to get them. A heavy price.
The wizard demanded the witch’s head – and broom –
on a platter. I’ve become a bit bloodthirsty
along the yellow-brick pathway to Emerald City,
where now I reign, wizard by my side,
peddling his side-show remedies as spells these days
to a people helpless and twitching underneath the remote azure sky.
Anyone can ask Alice; retaining your sanity
in an alternate universe can really be a drain.
At least I’ve got my boys – lions, scarecrows, and tin men they may be,
but you know, they’re loyal to the end, to death and beyond.
I’m having Glinda over for tea and advice:
how exactly can you remain remote and worshipped from a distance
for so many years without anyone asking questions?
I’m not looking for escape; my final wish was dominance.
My teetotaling, dirt-farming aunt and uncle would barely recognize me now,
so far from Kansas and my gingham skirts. Toto growls majestic
from his satin pillow, and me, Oz’s head witch, the bitch in charge,
no more pigtails and baskets, gumdrops and poppies
blooming and bowing in somnolent wonder.
We have seen a lot of technicolor lollipop nonsense
on our journey, the wizard and me.
It took tornadoes and hot air balloons to rip us from our humdrum.
Whatever you think of my sparkly shoes, their red gleam,
I had to kill to get them. A heavy price.
The wizard demanded the witch’s head – and broom –
on a platter. I’ve become a bit bloodthirsty
along the yellow-brick pathway to Emerald City,
where now I reign, wizard by my side,
peddling his side-show remedies as spells these days
to a people helpless and twitching underneath the remote azure sky.
Anyone can ask Alice; retaining your sanity
in an alternate universe can really be a drain.
At least I’ve got my boys – lions, scarecrows, and tin men they may be,
but you know, they’re loyal to the end, to death and beyond.
I’m having Glinda over for tea and advice:
how exactly can you remain remote and worshipped from a distance
for so many years without anyone asking questions?
I’m not looking for escape; my final wish was dominance.
My teetotaling, dirt-farming aunt and uncle would barely recognize me now,
so far from Kansas and my gingham skirts. Toto growls majestic
from his satin pillow, and me, Oz’s head witch, the bitch in charge,
no more pigtails and baskets, gumdrops and poppies
blooming and bowing in somnolent wonder.
Jeannine Hall Gailey recently served as the second Poet Laureate of Redmond, Washington, where her motto was "Geeks for poetry, poetry for geeks!" She is the author of four books of poetry: Becoming the Villainess, She Returns to the Floating World, Unexplained Fevers, and her latest, The Robot Scientist's Daughter. She remains a devoted fan of supervillainesses and superheroines, Miyazaki's anime, fairy tales and atomic-age pop culture. Her web site is www.webbish6.com.