Relationship Dolls
I was thinking about opening a doll factory.
Grumpy, tired-looking dolls
with messy hair and scowling teeth.
Talking dolls. Dolls that talk and talk and talk.
You pull a string from their back and they scream
‘This just isn’t working.’
‘Where am I going with my life?’
or ‘I need some time alone.’
Dolls that cry until you stamp on them.
Dolls that need thirty-seven batteries
just to keep going.
Dolls that come with baggage,
piles and piles of useless accessories
guaranteed to clutter every inch of your house.
Each doll will be unique, some with bent noses,
some with bent backs, all with broken hearts
that tumble from their chests when you burp them.
Don’t burp them. Dolls that won’t be patronized.
Dolls that can play dead, can bug your phone,
can leave you feeling empty and alone,
dolls with revolving heads, dolls that will sit on your pillow
and watch you while you sleep,
dolls with eyes you can feel on your back.
Why would you buy such a doll?
Why spend your money – all your money
- on a doll like this?
A doll that will drink your gin,
forbid you to touch other dolls,
a doll that will insist upon marriage,
a doll you can rest in the crook of your arm,
a lover you can legally drown.