Hobby Horse

 

I should have known

when I offered Hobby sweet, lovely sugar cubes

and she just sat there

like, lobotomized or something.

Sing a song with me Hobby!

Tell me a story about horses!

Recite a fun rhyme!

Dance with me!

Or, just fall over on the floor. 

~sigh~

Doctor Dollie, Hobby seems sick.

She won't eat anything,

she hasn't used the bathroom, like ever

and seems out of touch with her body.

Neigh if you can hear us, Hobby!

Stamp your hoo--

Oh, right. 

Wink, then! 

Oh Hobby, I love you

even though you don't do anything

or say anything

or even seem to know I'm alive

just like Mommy loves Daddy!

Hobby, we shall ride the range

even though you're passing strange

I will love you, love you true

and never make you into glue

Hobby, wild horse of the western bedroom!

with a head full of fluff

and a body like a broom!

Hi-yo, hi-yo Hobby! Awayyy!

I will do everything!

Do for you and talk for you 

preparing me for marriage 

somedayyy! Hoorayyyyyy!

____________

for  Poetics: "Running  With Horses" hosted by my friend Queen Cool Dora!

The adorable hobby horse pictured is available on Etsy from HappyHobbyHorsesHH. 

Music: Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band Equestrian Statue.

Steampunk Starling

 

Steampunk starling is noisy at dawn

at the base of the window, not the tops of the trees.

The steampunk sun and the regular one

animate her heart that is wound with keys.

Steampunk bird, lonely trifle

wheels and sits in interpretive fits

her gears all meshing with teeth all threshing

the odious this from the marvelous that.

Steampunk starling, nobody's darling

but God's if mechanical God may be

she sits in the gloaming prevented from roaming

an ornament for Master's library.

_________

for Dverse Poetics: "Passions Stamped On Lifeless Things"

Real Doll

I was a real doll,
dressed to the nines,
and cuter than ten puppies in an Easter basket.

I had button eyes.
My doctor shone a penlight at them and declared,
"flat affect" and started me on a prescription.

Pretty soon, my stitched-on grin
was making me popular!
Invites everywhere, filling up my screen.
Oh hell yes!
I'm telling you, girl,
I was so surprised I could have shit and fallen back in it.

Me and my doll friends wore striped stockings
and cute dresses we changed twenty times a day.
And boyfriends?
Girrrrrl.
Mine came and went like the weather--
I kept pushing their hands away from my hem,
spouting some crap about saving myself for marriage,
but I was worried what they'd do 
when they only found smooth plastic.

That's when things started to go tilt, a little bit.
Like at the beauty college,
where the Barbie with a ring in her nose took way too much off.
"It'll grow back!" chirped the cashier,
but, hello, it's yarn, it won't.

And, no matter how much Aveeno I slather on,
I'm about as soft as a baseball bat.
I turned to booze, but unlike some, I can't pee.
I tried smoking dope, but my mouth doesn't open.
I even tried hard dope, but the needles always break.
Fuuuuck.

You know what? I never went back to that doc.
Now I spend my days splayed on some little girl's bookshelf,
next to a Beanie giraffe.
Sometimes she takes me down and dangles me by my heels, 
squeaking, "Oh noooo! I'm falling out of the ski lift! 
Save meeeeeeee!"
Don't laugh, Toots, it's a plumb part.

I'm a real doll,
dressed to the nines,
and cuter than kittens in a cereal bowl.
________