The fairies are not polite beings.
Most people don't know this,
but when they want some of your hair
or bits of your fingernails, they don't wait
for you to trim them from your body.
No, they come right into the house
and without so much as a hello
or an excuse me please, they set to work
pulling off what they want
for their spells and such.
I wouldn't mind so much except
they also don't pay much attention
to the amount of pain they inflict
during their removal operations.
They'll yank at your eyebrows
(they really like those hairs,
no one knows why) like they are
gold ingots and kick you
in the eyeball if you dare to
question their motives or their methods.
If they have any kind of sharp implement
it is invariably in poor maintenance,
rusty and dull, never up to the job at hand.
On top of it all, none of them
ever says thank you or leaves
any kind of gift or offering.
But if you should ever forget
to put out a plate for them,
my, my, the fuss that ensues
is not to be witnessed by those
at all offended by harsh language.
If you want to know the truth
I don't even think they are all that cute.
Or sprightly. Freeloaders, every one
of them, living on the world’s good graces
because we think they live an enchanted life.
About as enchanting as rats, if you ask me.
Me, with shorn brows, and fingernails pared
to the quick. Me, wondering if maybe,
just maybe, they are punishment for some
transgression I've long since forgotten.
About the Author: Mario Milosevic's poems have appeared in many print and online journals, and in the anthology Poets Against the War. He lives in Washington State, where he works as a small town librarian. He has published two collections of poems, Animal Life and Fantasy Life.
Copyright © 2006 by Mario Milosevic. The poem not be reproduced in any form without the author's express written permission.