Dollies Eye
That mad smiling face
with pieces of my mother
caught between his teeth
handing me the crippled goose
and the rust stained hatchet
nodding toward the stump
Oh, yes; that
my platform, my stage
where I have stood
in my Arthurian pose
having pulled my wooden
Excalibur from the
knotted oak’s heart
and laying down this
sacrificial lamb…okay, this goose
it stares at me with doll’s eyes
already lifeless marbles.
Shall I pluck one out?
My sister’s plaything
Is missing one.
Perhaps I’ll save it in my pocket
and tonight with full bellies of fowl
I’ll press it into dollies face
while sissy giggles dreams
on her pink down pillow
and at dawn
my Guinevere
and her companion
can help me hide from
the mad smiling Merlin.
Midnight in Jackie's Garden
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