Joel Lane
The Wrong Doll
He’s been sleepwalking all week,
making no sense, making enemies,
so tonight you’ll cut his arms
to get some peace and quiet,
tonight you’ll pin him down
with a splinter of broken glass,
teach him to sing with alcohol,
teach him to dance with you.
And tomorrow night, if he’s good,
maybe you’ll go out together
and you’ll watch him pull.
Fat chance, now; but at least
he doesn’t go on about sex
while you’re trying to work.
He’s a stupid brat. Always has been
since you broke his plastic face.
But lately, with each successive war,
he’s been looking better - at least
better than you. His eyes shine
at the chance of seeing some action.
Page(s) 36
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