There once was a girl born under a bad star.
Her wings were papery thin like onion skin,
And she had a fat yellow bruise for a heart.
She neither dies in the end nor does she win,
But her tale is as old as the others —

     enter her father and mother and brother

[Her father exits through the trap door
Her mother moves off stage]

There once was a girl born under a bad star.
She fell in love with a bear with the hands of a man
That he used to collect tchotchkes and repair silver coils—

Sometimes, he would cup the worm in its silk cocoon,
And the girl would turn her head in jealousy.

This is also his story.

There once was a girl born above the black earth.
Her hair was dark and her eyes were darker
And her skin was pink fuzz like a peach.

     There once was a satellite
     That glowed in the night
     Like the red end of a cigarette—

     The girl tries to escape the ugliness of everything.
     The metaphor comes to an end.

There once was a girl born under a bad star.
She falls in love with a bear with the hands of a man
That he uses to wash and to brush her long hair.

     [Other men would press their thumbs into her bruise
     Like the soft spot of an apple but the bear only
     Brushes and washes and brushes and washes]

There once was a girl with a father and mother and brother
And the angel visited and said be not afraid and the girl did
Not fear the angel but the father shot the angel in the heart.

There once was a girl born under a bad star.