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Sandra McPherson: For a Buried Doll’s Head, Manufactured 1890s

Be careful, said the bottle miner,

Don’t let the dirt out —  

It holds her eyes in place.


Neither oak gall, puffball, nor pulled leek.

Dainty and dirty.

Even in her tear ducts

The matter of

Our root planet.

Veins of refuse

Through the crocus-blossom neck.


If empty, the head’s bisque cup

Could fill with flower tea

Up to the aperture eyes.

Mannerly, we’d visit

Even though her former home

Was privy and trash pit.


Revived thing of play,

People your age go into the ground



Wash your face? Never.

Cede a skull? Not a doll.


Go on biting that elfin stone.

Without your child.

First published in Crazyhorse, No. 67, Spring, pp. 89-90. 2005.  Subsequently published in Certain Uncollected Poems, Ostrakon Press, 2012.

From Atlas Obscura

One comment on “Sandra McPherson: For a Buried Doll’s Head, Manufactured 1890s

  1. Margaret G. Kiernan
    May 27, 2019

    I love it.

    Liked by 1 person

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This entry was posted on May 13, 2019 by in Art and Cinema, Poetry and tagged , , .

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