Peter Pan Rewritten
by and published in Edition One of Pomegranate
Sun lumbers to sleep like a crimson dragon
And clustered spotlight stars flash on
One by
One
I’m running late and still at home.
Wavering, I bite my lip and dither
Before the oily lipstick-smothered mirror – I am Princess Tigerlily with a bow and quiver,
Smeared war paint and purple feathers.
You, bashful in your stripes and limp plastic dagger
(A red herring) but lacking pirate swagger,
Puppygaze across the room, hiding in the soupy parlour’s
Fag-thickened air and budget lager.
I see you, grin alluringly and mumble,
Stumble over ciderloosenedsyllables;
My words are all nonsensical, jumbled
Into babbling sentences that crumble.
You talk. I slur and struggle
To make sense of all the muddle
That winds itself into my ear
While I shape attentive looks upon my face.
You climbed Kil-i-man-jaro,
Apparently. That is enough to win me
Over and soon we are a tumbling clutter
Of limbs andlips and drunkenstutters.
We don’t intend to stop,
But fall into inebriated slumber.
Then morning comes,
and I’m an idiot with a crooked headdress and smudged eyeliner,
Staring at a sleeping stranger.
Tigerlily would know better.
Eleanor Kendrick
Eleanor Kendrick is seventeen years old and lives in Kent. She has previously had work published in ‘Young Writer’ magazine. Drama is also a passion of hers – she has had parts in five TV programmes and has just accepted the role of Anne Frank in a BBC adaptation of her diaries – as well as music: she used to run an indie zine and plays guitar in a band.