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Authors: Heppermann,Christine

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BOOK: Poisoned Apples
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Simon, anything you say

can be used against you in a court of law.

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HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

Suburban Legends

E
ven though we don't really believe

all the crap about pale men and women,

their mouths wide as nightmares, lurching out

from the sinister trees, a trip to look for

the albino farm is as good an excuse as any

to get in that car and continue the story

of Terri, who draws on eyeliner with red pen,

and Karen deliberately spilling her vodka and Sprite

so she can take off her shirt and wave it out the car window,

and me, stuck once again with the ugliest guy,

the one with the half-assed mustache and tragic skin.

Speeding away from Westroads Mall and the PG movie

we will never see, we own this Omaha night.

Terri passes a joint with the driver.

Karen screams when the wind or cold

hands hit her bra, and I pretend nothing

is worming beneath my miniskirt,

while, not far off, a phosphorescent boy

blinks pinkly across a bonfire and says,

“Are those people for real?”

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The First Anorexic

E
ven the bruises she loves,

those bites when her mouth,

expecting resistance, sinks to the core

where the hissing begins tempting her

to scrape the flesh from every ruddy strip.

She hurries to swallow

the seeds, the stem, the clinging leaves.

Now Eve can see beyond the garden.

Now she knows there is nothing but hunger.

Each meal will be a new sweet punishment.

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A SHAPE MAGAZINE
Fairy Tale

O
nce upon a time there was a girl who

had a good hair week! Seven cute looks

she could do at home, and their names were

Waves, Bob, Bun, Bangs, Braid, Sleek, and

Party-Ready Ponytail.

One day, while out walking in the woods

at a steady pace with short bursts of speed,

the girl met a wolf and told him,
What big

smudge-free lashes you have!

The wolf said,
The better to see you

fix common makeup blunders; erase

years in minutes!
So the girl skipped

the loose powder, stuck to pastels, and

dabbed her lips with Spun Sugar

Plumping Gloss ($18), so delicious that

the wolf ate her up. The woodsman

rode by—torching three hundred calories

in just thirty minutes!—lifted his axe,

and shouted,
Adios, belly flab!

It was a quick-and-easy workout.

The girl sprang from the wolf's

killer middle to snag fall's hottest

shoes and bags, and they all lived

happily

ever

ab-tastic.

 

Art TK

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Retelling

W
hat the miller's daughter should have said

from the start

or at any point down the line is,

no.

No, you can't drag me to the king.

No, I can't spin that room full of straw into gold.

No, not that room, either.

Or that one.

Quit asking.

No, I won't give you my necklace.

No, I won't give you my ring.

No, I can't give you the child;

the child will never exist.

End of story.

Once upon a time

there was a miller's daughter

who got a studio apartment,

took classes during the day,

waited tables at night,

and when customers asked

what's in the gravy

on the rump roast sandwich,

it's the best thing they've ever

tasted, she winked and said,

Guess.

 

Art TK

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..................................................................

BFF

J
ill doesn't want me to feel bad.

Jill says Dylan isn't good enough for me.

Jill would let me borrow her green skirt,

but it's new, and I might stretch it out.

Jill is glad
her
parents don't force her

to buy hot lunch.

Jill knows a superchic way to do my hair

so it will hide my ginormous forehead.

Jill can teach me how to do my mascara

so my eyes look less squinty.

Jill can't help it if Dylan asked her to the movie.

Jill won't tell anyone

besides Dylan

about that time I peed my pants at Target.

Jill wishes I had made cheerleading, too,

but aren't her pom-poms cute?

Jill is
soooooo
glad we're BFFs because,

Like, who else could put up with you?

LOL!

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