CandyLand

i got angry. -enjoy-

 

The idea that you could possibly handle the complexities of this was nothing more then a CandyLand dream. A wish that everything, no matter how rough, gritty, and sharp, would, ultimately in the end, be coated in so much snowy sugar and cotton like candy that we would no longer feel the pain when we land.

But Willy Wonka doesn’t rule this world. And neither do you. So, please excuse me while I go into a diabetic coma from all cigarette smoke words and taller than thou glances. And when I wake, groggy and covered in high fructose corn syrup and I see you, for the first time in not quite long enough, I will know that I’m now immune to all your carb loaded syllables. I will laugh as the candy striper you pedals your pretty poison, wrapped in colors and cocaine dust. Because I will know, you are but Gene Wilder/Johnny Depp Las Vegas imitator.

So, when the credits roll and you change from the magical King of CandyLand back into a wishing-you-were a want to be, I will still be standing. Ah, CandyLand dreams, like tuberculosis; deadly and contagious. There seems to be an epidemic developing.

Reviews

[xlynne]

i loved all your comparisions and imagery in this poem! i thought that the whole thing is really well written and i really like the candyland idea.
"And when I wake, groggy and covered in high fructose corn syrup and I see you, for the first time in not quite long enough, I will know that I'm now immune to all your carb loaded syllables." thats my favorite sentence.
i never would have thought to explain what you did in the way you did it so major props to your creativity!