me and Dolly.
"Run along to your room," you say.
"Stay there...all night. All day."
You think we don't know
that you crawl with every loathsome perversion
of flesh and spirit.
You believe that Dolly and I don't see it.
Fine. We will whisper over our tea set,
cups as delicate as a veneer.
We'll discuss you, you know, and send anonymous notes
to Mrs. Muffington, the police, and in the pockets of strangers' coats.
Dolly says your lungs are weak.
You stumble when you walk. Cough when you speak.
"Hello," we'll say, "Hello, what's this?"
as you lie on the floor we'll give you a kiss.
Dismiss us once more.
Wave your hand airily.
Say, "Go talk to your doll!"
but...
my doll talks to me.
______
Keep exploring the deep recesses of your unique weirdness
ReplyDeleteThe fantasy of this doll house tea party is rife with real traumatic issues; negligence just for the sake of naming one.A nice analogy to the imaginary garden with real toads concept. Well done,
ReplyDeleteHappy New Year Shay
much love...
I feel the eeriness of this childhood, and the recognition by the child of the adult's perversion and decline. So well done, as only you can do.
ReplyDeleteYou read into the creepiness of that photo so well. I so enjoyed the monologue, torn between mirth and admiration for your vivid imagination. The last line is brilliant.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the goosebumps!
ReplyDeleteI feel like I want to have a talk with Dolly before it's too late..
ReplyDeleteThis is creepy-skeery! No one puts a hammer to the skull in a poem the way you do.
ReplyDelete"Dolly says your lungs are weak." This might be one of the creepiest lines I've read in a very long time, especially after looking at the expression on the girl's face.
ReplyDeleteThat last line IS powerful (and a bit creepy).
ReplyDeleteWhy yes she does.
ReplyDeleteThis is jam(mie) packed with every ounce of come-back power an abused or neglected child or small-seeming human should wield.
I love how you poison them here, but still give them a kiss:
"Hello," we'll say, "Hello, what's this?"
as you lie on the floor we'll give you a kiss.
A spine-shiver and a bit of mad laughter from the attic always go well in a brimstone jumprope chant--some of the best things you write, imo. This really tells the misfit child's tale too many have lived, and paints the ugly face of neglect and abuse with clownlike colors, but of course, that's only a veneer--underneath, the clown has bloody teeth...but, fortunately, weak lungs. Dolly is a masterstroke of personification here as well. Fine, sharp, painfully real piece, Shay.
ReplyDeleteOh, hell, I wish that I had written this.
ReplyDeleteToday, this is my favorite part:
ReplyDelete"Fine. We will whisper over our tea set,
cups as delicate as a veneer."
I really want to hang out with this little girl. :)
This is beyond awesomely creepy cool! I love it.
ReplyDeleteOh, this one is very profound. It speaks volumes.
ReplyDelete