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Rapunzel, Rapunzel

Aunt Scallion said I could call her
anything I wanted, as long as it wasn't
'Witch,' or 'Mother,' so since
she named me after salad,
I figured it was only fair.
On good days, I’ll call her Callie,
but when it’s “Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
keep drawing those free-body diagrams!
Well. On those days she will not
forget her onion-rooted identity.

You are under some delusion, I think,
that I am locked here in distress,
that I long for sun and sea and stars
and most importantly, love,
and your love specifically, whatever
that means to you.
I am not distressed;
I am undergoing education,
and by my calculations I will be done
in less than six months, actually.

Aunt Callie and I have been
working on this project for years.
Soon our pulley system
will be sophisticated enough
for me to lower myself from the window
unaided, using only
my hair. Isn’t that exciting?
Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait
until then if you want to try it.

I don’t have the time to recalibrate
for your height and weight,
but I’m sure I could keep
yelling down to you like this
on break hours,
if that’s what you want.

Aunt Callie says to tell you
that I am Samson and you are very
close to being my Delilah,
which I think is a terrible analogy.
She’s not old, but she’s
kind of getting there.

There are stairs round the back,
if you’d like to come solve equations
with me. It’s dreadfully boring
sometimes, which is why I’ve
taken to singing the quadratic formula
whenever it shows up.
That must have been what you heard.

Aunt Callie says you’re welcome
to come up, if you can get past
that bit of overgrown hedge. We’re not
the best gardeners, pardon us.
She is making onion soup with rampion,
which I think is supposed to be funny
and really isn’t, but if you’re determined
enough, you can find out
what you think of it yourself.

Other Princess Poems:
Snow White
The Little Mermaid
Beauty and the Beast
Sleeping Beauty
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