|Doll by Junsung Lee|
I am a caribou
derricked by dolls, secondly sighted.
I bask in my horns,
my adornment of goatbeard
my split-quickened hooves, all
the better to bolt
from the mastering hand.
I could tell you much about
bleating in lichens, waiting for the rut;
how poetry's a pillow of moss made lead
stuck awkward beneath the unquiet head
tossing sharp antlers that keep it erect;
how love is a forage of poisoned grass
caught in rough lips, slick liquid gold
slipping from have, rolling from hold
but I need to run, because running's my life,
away from this scaffold that's
nailed to the sky, away from the
brushes, the laboratory eye
to the tan tundra's ten generations of night,
where my numberless sisters
dance with white wolves
to buckle the worlds.
Posted for real toads
Margaret Bednar posts some amazing photographs of dolls created by students as a class project in self-representation in art. They are amazing and I encourage everyone to follow the link and check them all out.