The Day Cruella De Vil Barked Up The Wrong Tree

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Cruella once told me to embrace my demon-stuffed destiny. She stirred puppy stew, elegantly, while forcing me to sew a black & white quilt. It turned out gray – I cheated – and she buried her daggered fingertips in my cerebral cortex. I broke my favorite cup of heartache (and her nose) as a parting gift, and left the door ajar. Cerberus would surely want to deal with her howls, would surely want to even the scales.
That day, I watched him paint the walls red.

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Mary Kling over at dVerse Poets Pub invites us to dive into Disney’s world for Poetics today. I went for prosy, quirky, and a little dark… just a little. Heh.
Come join us at the bar!

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