scarlet
© 1995 Devon Koren

the walrus has a toy fetish
those dazzling men in gray overcoats
and bright orange jumpsuits
pick a color any color
he dyes my lips a thousand times purple
my neck a thousand times aqua marine
lavished with trinkets and spiders and cornflakes
so i say but i really mean no
shadow eyes and stick lips
i am the prize among his legions of soldiers and superheroes
and we all go marching down to get out of the rain
adorned in his finest satin white kisses
broken tousled unfastened
he turns the key and all of those untouched songs
spill from my voiceless box stained throat
oh, where have you gone, dear christopher robin?
i bleed for the sanctuary of another hundred acre wood
the vultures circle around the carcass of never
never land beneath this sweater of flesh
my soul is shivering
and all the king's horses and all the king's men
flung the doors to winter wide open
i kneel at the sign of the jesus saves intersection
lamenting the mystery of a single lost crayon
sixteen coats of paint on my nails
but the buttons are lost in the snow and
the polish is wearing thin
they never said anything about this in the advertisement