A Portrait in Blood (the Romanovs are Dead)

Assembled in your finest
A funeral march
To the basement
Of a house that isn’t
Your own but has been
Somewhere you’ve lived

Your mother clings
To your brother
Who, by now,
Can’t walk on his own
And your father is
Worried and weak
In heart and soul
And it feels like
You’re dying

Standing together
Huddled one last time
Because all lies are

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poem by Elizabeth Rebel
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the poem that N A M E D itself

it crawls out
slithering snake
onto the paper
spread like the Bible
out before me
and I think:
what shall I write?
and it seeps out
bleeding black
onto the paper
words that form
from the hollow
places inside me
that sometimes
I can’t find
and it calls forth
emotions that
deserve the words
I can’t give
—except

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poem by Elizabeth Rebel
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Drowning Ophelia

The water seeps up, up
(lapping, licking, soothing)
twisting around the parts of
your body that you have
come to know and hate
because this is the body
that the world abandoned

The water is soothing
the water is deep
lay down your heavy head
close yours eyes and sleep
(thick, dreaming, dark)
sweet, bright little lamb
so alone, so lost in Hell

The water circles your neck
clothing you in elegant dress
your mouth was once dust
your body made of bugs

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poem by Elizabeth Rebel
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One Princess to Another

Sleeping Beauty stroked
Her blonde hair
And sighed and
Longed for the woods

Snow White stared
At her reflection
And watched as
Her face aged and her life faded

Cinderella pulled at
Her long dress
And looked at
The glass shoes of enslavement

And then Cinderella
Found Sleeping Beauty
And asked:
“Did we ever have a choice? ”

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poem by Elizabeth Rebel
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Snow White Transparent

“Mirror… Mirror…”

Snow White stops
Looks down at
Her hand
Perfectly pale
Unblemished
Young and
Innocent
But damned
So damned
The wicked
Woman knew
Smiled and knew

“This is what you want”

Hands her the
Apple, poisoned
And red

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poem by Elizabeth Rebel
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