Tuesday, September 30, 2008

A poem from five minutes ago

Made the last post, swigged a bit more of this tasty red wine, and knocked this one out.

The title refers (on its most literal level) to a line of fashion dolls made by Mattel in my childhood, now sought (along with their cousins Dawn and her friends) by collectors, including me. Gotta be a bit of Winehouse and one or two groupies of my acquaintance in there as well. But I'm explaining too much.


heads turned backward, joints loose,
knees blue, lashes shed,
feet chewed: they age
like the dissolute young,

not like the dollies who once
looked up to their hard breasts,
twist-and-turn waists,
feet on perpetual tiptoe,

and who now put them
(frocks torn, lips smeared)
behind glass that reflects
chins, crow’s feet, and—loveliest—

laugh lines.

No comments: