Chad Davidson


If you, Cinderella, really walked in glass
slippers, then waltzing would be right
out. One slip and you're in India, dead

to the hordes stumbling over the mirror 
shards and broken tea cups. Take Coltrane
in "So What." He too walks on glass

at angles light enough to fire a reed
into the neck and breathe just one more
day in June. Cinderella, why can't you lie

about your foot size? Take Coltrane:
he stops shooting up, we never get that
throwing himself into the sax. You'd startle

like a spark plug if I kept turning over
his "Take the A Train" solo in my head
and bumped you. I hear your brittle

breath, smooth the sheets. They ripple like curses.
The way you feel in glass: even the simplest step
could send each metatarsal through the arrival

of itself, reflected. Even the cackling step-
sisters can't break through your panes,
into rooms with music only you can hear.

Location: Binghamton, New York
Occupation: Assistant Professor of English at the State University of West Georgia
Book: Consolation Miracle

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