Arts and Entertainment, Cinderella, gen y, generation y, identity, Literature, millennials, Personal, Poetry, shoes
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The True Story Of Cinderella

Elan Mudrow


As kids

While in a scout troop

We had to glue dry macaroni

On the outside of

A lady’s shoe.

Spray paint it


Place fake flowers

Inside of it

That didn’t fit,

and give it

to our mothers, with a smile,

And a yearning for approval.

The shoe was one

our mothers gave us,

From their mystery closet

Which, to the best of our knowledge,

Was filled with thousands

Of shoes from various time periods.

The shoe, pump or stiletto

Appeared to us

As something mummified,

An ancient artifact.

Detached from our mothers.

How could we give it back?

Something just didn’t seem right

About it.

I mean, how

Could they wear the damn thing again?

If indeed, they wore the thing in the first place.

It, my finished starched slipper of a gift,

The prized Michelangelo,

The leaning high heel of pasta,

My expression of artistic noodlery


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