snow cone

this girl i met
from texas has
big hair. it's blonde,
it's shiny and sits
like a cloud of cotton
candy on her pale
white head. her eyes
are a soft blue, like
the texas sky in june.
if not for the thin
stripes of pink lipstick
she'd be invisible,
she'd be a ghost in
the wind. i feel like
putting her on a
float and parading
her about town, for
no reason other than
that that is who she
is, the homecoming queen.
i could be her king.
perhaps her prince, or
at worst the foot
soldier who lays down
his life when the vikings
storm the castle.
okay, i'm dreaming, i
drifted off for a
moment thinking about
the girl from texas. i'm
okay now. she's tapping
me on the shoulder
and says that she's
in the mood for an icy
snowball cone, cherry
flavored. i think i'll run
off and get that for her,
after all, she is the queen.