Crab Orchard Review Vol. 12, No. 2, our

Jeanne Marie Beaumont
Broken Dolls Day
June 3, Japan
The stitched would never
heal. Nor could the smallest finger
missing of a hand be glued to a pudgy
plastic palm. She lies on her back—bye-bye.
It is over. Around her those of the lost
screws, stuck eyes, detached
wires, burnt hair, punctured torso,
brother work, dog work, left out
in the rain. Played out. Over the wood,
wax, plastic, porcelain, papier mâché,
straw, leather, resin & cloth,
the four-foot hunchbacked monk
bows his ancient bald head.
O broken ones, we are
the careless world—forgive us
for we wore you as ourselves.
24 ◆ Crab Orchard Review