Bedroomery

What say quilted peacocks and keepsakes in a drawer?

What say paisley patch of dead Jane’s nighty

Stitches ripped, stitches stitched

Our patient’s black hair winding,

Stuck in pillow cream?

There is the calico ice-cream seller,

Here the tottering parasol lady

And white-faced Pierrot.

Yes, look!

The smiling infant

And a whole crew of cockatoo characters

Parades around her sordid bed.

No mothballs, no minty candy.

Oh, pretty marionette dance!

Cry out and make her tumble from her dream

You my bonbons, my happy ringing family

Puppies leap and yelp in her little green yard, ah,

But wait ’til the waking cock crows.

~First published in ChiZine