No matter what life you leadthe virgin is a lovely number:cheeks as fragile as cigarette paper,arms and legs made of Limoges,lips like Vin Du Rhône,rolling her china-blue doll eyesopen and shut.
Open to say,
Good Day Mama,and shut for the thrustof the unicorn.
She is unsoiled.
She is as white as a bonefish.
Once there was a lovely virgincalled Snow White.
Say she was thirteen.
Her stepmother,a beauty in her own right,though eaten, of course, by age,would hear of no beauty surpassing her own.
Beauty is a simple passion,but, oh my friends, in the endyou will dance the fire dance in iron shoes.
The stepmother had a mirror to which she referred—something like the weather forecast—a mirror that proclaimed the one beauty of the land.
She would ask,
Looking glass upon the wall,who is fairest of us all?
And the mirror would reply,
You are the fairest of us all.
Pride pumped in her like poison.
Suddenly one day the mirror replied,
Queen, you are full fair, 'tis true,but Snow White is fairer than you.
Until that moment Snow Whitehad been no more importantthan a dust mouse under the bed.
But now the queen saw brown spots on her handand four whiskers over her lipso she condemned Snow Whiteto be hacked to death.
Bring me her heart, she said to the hunter,and I will salt it and eat it.
The hunter, however, let his prisoner goand brought a boar's heart back to the castle.
The queen chewed it up like a cube steak.
Now I am fairest, she said,lapping her slim white fingers.
Snow White walked in the wildwoodfor weeks and weeks.
At each turn there were twenty doorwaysand at each stood a hungry wolf,his tongue lolling out like a worm.
The birds called out lewdly,talking like pink parrots,and the snakes hung down in loops,each a noose for her sweet white neck.
On the seventh weekshe came to the seventh mountainand there she found the dwarf house.
It was as droll as a honeymoon cottageand completely equipped withseven beds, seven chairs, seven forksand seven chamber pots.
Snow White ate seven chicken liversand lay down, at last, to sleep.
The dwarfs, those little hot dogs,walked three times around Snow White,the sleeping virgin. They were wiseand wattled like small czars.
Yes. It's a good omen,they said, and will bring us luck.
They stood on tiptoes to
Snow White wake up. She told themabout the mirror and the killer-queenand they asked her to stay and keep house.
Beware of your stepmother,they said.
Soon she will know you are here.
While we are away in the minesduring the day, you must notopen the door.
Looking glass upon the wall . . .
The mirror toldand so the queen dressed herself in ragsand went out like a peddler to trap Snow White.
She went across seven mountains.
She came to the dwarf houseand Snow White opened the doorand bought a bit of lacing.
The queen fastened it tightlyaround her bodice,as tight as an Ace bandage,so tight that Snow White swooned.
She lay on the floor, a plucked daisy.
When the dwarfs came home they undid the laceand she revived miraculously.
She was as full of life as soda pop.
Beware of your stepmother,they said.
She will try once more.
Snow White, the dumb bunny,opened the doorand she bit into a poison appleand fell down for the final time.
When the dwarfs returnedthey undid her bodice,they looked for a comb,but it did no good.
Though they washed her with wineand rubbed her with butterit was to no avail.
She lay as still as a gold piece.
The seven dwarfs could not bring themselvesto bury her in the black groundso they made a glass coffinand set it upon the seventh mountainso that all who passed bycould peek in upon her beauty.
A prince came one June dayand would not budge.
He stayed so long his hair turned greenand still he would not leave.
The dwarfs took pity upon himand gave him the glass Snow White—its doll's eyes shut forever—to keep in his far-off castle.
As the prince's men carried the coffinthey stumbled and dropped itand the chunk of apple flew outof her throat and she woke up miraculously.
And thus Snow White became the prince's bride.
The wicked queen was invited to the wedding feastand when she arrived there werered-hot iron shoes,in the manner of red-hot roller skates,clamped upon her feet.
First your toes will smokeand then your heels will turn blackand you will fry upward like a frog,she was told.
And so she danced until she was dead,a subterranean figure,her tongue flicking in and outlike a gas jet.
Meanwhile Snow White held court,rolling her china-blue doll eyes open and shutand sometimes referring to her mirroras women do.
